Letters
by Feeshies
Summary: It was always going to end in tragedy. A look at the Knight Commander and the First Enchanter over the years. Updates weekly.
1. Chapter 1

Personal gain was not Meredith's main motivation for joining the Templar Order, but she couldn't help but feel powerful as she marched through the Apprentice Quarters. Meredith was still in the early stages of her templar training, but one might have mistaken her for the Knight-Commander from the way the young mages reacted to her presence. The mage apprentices kept a brisk pace as they walked past her, bowing their heads out of respect-or out of fear. This comforted Meredith. The mages were under control which meant a safer Kirkwall, and an easy shift for her.

That brief sense of comfort was soon replaced with brain-gnawing suspicion as she stepped closer to the library. Amidst the small scatterings of mages moving in an orderly fashion, one stuck out. Meredith frowned at the sight of an apprentice shuffling back and forth, clutching a tome to his chest as if his life depended on it. Occasionally he would peer over the corner down the hallway leading to the library, but he would always go back to pacing. Meredith's body tensed up. Best case scenario: this apprentice was just being difficult. Worst case scenario: she was witnessing the start of a demonic possession. Either way, she would have to react fast.

"You, mage!" Meredith barked as she stomped towards the apprentice. The other mages in the hall tensed up at her voice, only to keep walking when they realized she wasn't addressing them.

The heavy tome slipped out of the apprentice's hands and slammed on the cold stone floor with a loud thud! He dropped to his knees and scooped it back up in his arms.

"I'm sorry, I didn't…" the apprentice stammered. "...I'm sorry."

Meredith was standing over him. The apprentice was an elf around her age, perhaps a little bit older. Behind a mop of straggly dark hair, his large green eyes were staring up at her with a fear she was more than used to seeing from the young mages.

"Why are you loitering in the halls?"

The mage ducked his head, his body trembling like that of a freshly-shaven animal.

"I was just going to the library," his voice shook as his pale fingers picked at the worn leather cover of the book he was cradling. "I didn't mean to cause any trouble, Ser."

Meredith didn't buy his story. What reason would she have to? Her hand traced over the hilt of her sword and she narrowed her eyes at the mage.

"Stand up. You're making a fool of yourself."

At once, the apprentice scrambled to his feet. When standing, he was at least a few inches taller than her. Meredith wished she kept him on the floor.

"The library is just down the hall," she tried to keep her eyes on his, but he kept avoiding her gaze. "You have no reason to waste your time by pacing out here."

"I know, it's just…" the apprentice's voice trailed off and he looked over his shoulder. "There are some, um, people by the entrance."

"People." Meredith repeated, cocking an eyebrow. This mage was definitely starting to wear on her patience. "That's the issue?"

The apprentice tried to force out a response, but Meredith pushed past him and peered around the corner. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Most of the mages were gone and the only people remaining was a small cluster of templars standing outside the library entrance. The suspicion Meredith felt before grew even more intense.

"The templars," she glanced back at the mage, who tensed up under her gaze.

"It's nothing. I shouldn't have bothered you."

"You have no reason to feel nervous around the templars, mage." Meredith stepped closer to him, craning her neck in an attempt to get a closer look at the tome he was clutching. "Unless you have something to hide."

The mage shook his head. "I'm not hiding anything, I promise."

"Then what's the problem?"

The mage didn't respond. Instead, he squeezed the tome tighter and averted his eyes.

Meredith looked back at the templars and sighed. She was heading in that direction anyway and she didn't want a mage to be wandering the halls like this.

"Follow me."

The mage took a step back.

"What?"

"I said, follow me." Meredith strode towards the library, soon followed by the mage.

Meredith passed the group of templars with a few acknowledging nods. None of them seemed to notice the apprentice who was cowering behind her. When they finally reached the library entrance, the mage let out a sigh of relief as if he just escaped a war zone.

"Thank you, Ser. I-"

"Open your book." Meredith interrupted, her stern tone slicing through his timid demeanor.

The mage's eyes widened, but he opened the tome without another second of hesitation. When Meredith gestured for him to turn the book towards her, he complied as well.

Meredith narrowed her eyes at the small text. Templars were required to have at least a basic understanding of magic theory, but the content in the book was definitely beyond her grasp. The tiny print and cluttered diagrams didn't help. Still, nothing seemed sinistar.

"Turn the pages."

The mage obeyed and Meredith watched the pages that flipped through his fingers. From what she could gather, nothing seemed out of place. Nothing was smuggled in within the pages. Nothing was written over the text. Nothing was there to indicate that this wasn't just a normal tome taken from the Circle's library.

Meredith watched cautiously as he turned through the last few pages. The mage certainly seemed skittish, but he was clean. There was no reason for her to hold him from his studies.

"You may go."

The apprentice's eyes seemed to light up with both alleviation and disbelief. He bowed his head as he walked backwards into the library.

"Thank you for your patience, Ser."

Meredith just waved her hand dismissively and continued her shift.

* * *

Orsino felt like he couldn't relax until he was all the way inside the library. The soothing scent of old books and parchment numbed his brain from any fear he felt earlier. When he was in the library, he was just a mage doing his work. The templars wouldn't have a reason to bother him. Not that they needed a reason.

He let out a weary sigh before making his way through the winding maze of bookshelves to the tables arranged against the other side of the room. Maud managed to claim a table near the window, which couldn't have been easy since those seats were always coveted by the other mages. The windows were barely more than small gaps in the stone walls covered with glass, but they provided the mages with a rare glimpse of life outside the Gallows. Even if that life was just the endless gray ocean that surrounded them.

Maud was staring longingly out of the window with a dazed look in her eyes. when Orsino sat down across from her. She didn't move her gaze until she heard the light thump of his tome opening against the desk.

"Oh, Orsino," she tried to push a few loose strands of her thick black hair out of her face, only for them to flop back down. "I saved you a seat."

"I saw. Thank you."

"Did those templars give you trouble again?" Maud lowered her voice, her brown eyes softening.

Orsino's hand subconsciously reached for his pointed left ear. A few days prior, one of the templars outside the library yanked on it. Hard. It still hurt. Being a mage was hard enough, but being an elf just caused him to stand out more.

He shook his head.

"Actually, another templar helped me walk past them, so they left me alone."

Maud looked like someone splashed cold water on her face.

"One of the templars helped you? Which one?"

"I didn't get her name. She was around our age, blonde hair, kind of serious-looking."

For a moment, Maud was stuck in a stunned silence-which didn't happen often.

"Are you talking about Ser Meredith?"

This was definitely not the first time Orsino heard that name. All of the apprentices heard of Meredith Stannard. They heard she outperformed all of the other recruits. They heard she was intensely devoted to the Templar Order. They heard that she was the one they would have to fear the most some day.

"Might have been her," Orsino shrugged. "I think she just wanted me to get back to work."

"Speaking of which, we should start studying," Maud flipped back a few pages in her book. "I believe we were supposed to go over the early history of the Chantry."

Orsino groaned and let his head collapse against the open tome.

Maud's eyes flicked up at him.

"What's the problem?"

"I thought we were done with the Chantry," Orsino's complaints were muffled against the pages. "This is so tedious."

"Look around you, Orsino," Maud gestured to the Chantry symbols decorating the library wall. "We're never 'done' with the Chantry."

"All I'm saying is that the enchanters put so much emphasis on our Harrowing, but they're not teaching us anything that would help us prepare."

"How do you know this isn't going to help us?"

Orsino peeled his face off of his book. "What? The Harrowing is just being tested on the history of the Chantry?"

"Not exactly," Maud leaned in close to him and lowered her voice to a whisper. "I heard the Chantry makes the apprentices sing hymns and the templars judge you on your performance."

"Maker. If that's the case, just make me tranquil."

Maud stifled a laugh. "Orsino, that's horrible."

"Have you heard me sing? It would be an act of mercy."

With a sigh and another playful rolling of her eyes, Maud returned to the open book before her.

"You're smart and you're a good scholar, I know you are. You can do this."

"But I don't want to be a good scholar," Orsino let his eyes wander across the print, not absorbing any of the information. "Good or bad, the Circle is going to notice you. If you aim for mediocrity, your life will be so much easier."

"The Circle is watching us anyway, Orsino."

"True, but you can affect how closely they watch you."

Maud huffed her breath the way she always did when she knew she wasn't going to sway him. They had this conversation a thousand times before and it always ended the same way: Maud changing the subject instead of accepting defeat.

"The letters came today," despite her frustration before, Maud's entire face lit up as she spoke.

The Circle mages were banned from any contact with the outside, other than their mail privileges. After the letters were inspected by the tranquil, they were given out to their recipients. The ordeal became something of an unofficial monthly holiday within the Gallows, but Orsino never got much use out of it.

But Maud looked forward to this day more than Wintersend or Satinalia combined. She would curl up in her quarters and read the letters from her family over and over again until her eyes grew watery. There were times when she would read the letters with Orsino. This happened so often that he was reasonably sure that he could write an entire biography about her family and their neighbors. At least the gossip was interesting and it provided Orsino with a glimpse of what having a traditional family was like.

After the letter was read thoroughly, the parchment was stashed away in a chest that contained eight years worth of letters. Then she would write a response that was easily ten times as dense as any of the reports she had to write for her classes.

Orsino would spend the evening with a book as he listened to everyone else open their letters.

"Maybe this will be the year," Maud tried to reassure him.

Orsino's eyes strained as he struggled to focus on the book before him. He was taken to the Circle three years before Maud was and he still hadn't received a single letter. So much time had passed that he couldn't remember what it was like to have a real home. With a real family.

It didn't tear him up too much. It was enough to hear Maud talk about how warm her dog, Rosie, would feel when she fell asleep by her feet. It was enough to hear about how she would always wake up to the sound of her older sister singing as she tended the farm. It was enough to hear about how her family kept her chair at the dinner table, even though she was no longer there to sit in it.

Still, Orsino waited for the day he would enter the mail room and not leave empty-handed.

He would have to keep waiting.


	2. Chapter 2

Meredith hid in the cellar, painfully aware of the chaos that was happening outside. The weather-worn wood door couldn't block out the screams that pierced through her ears, the scent of blood filling her nostrils, or the feeling of hot tears streaming down her cheeks. Her left calf stung from where Amelia, or what was once Amelia, swiped at her. Meredith was there when she saw her older sister distort into that horrible creature. The wound left on her leg was all she had to show of her encounter. Her parents weren't as lucky.

More than a decade had passed and Meredith found purpose within the Templar Order. But every night, she woke up back in that cellar. Her eyes were aching. Her breathing was ragged. Her blonde hair was stuck to her cheeks with dried tears. She stared at the ceiling, waiting for the wood door of the cellar to be replaced with the stone walls of the barracks. Meredith swore her nightmares only got worse after she started taking lyrium. She was told it was a common side effect, but that didn't make it feel less real.

The stone floor was cold against Meredith's bare feet as she paced back and forth through the barracks. She tried to keep her mind focused on anything else. The gentle patting of her feet against the floor. The rhythmic breathing and snoring of the other recruits. The lulling sound of the waves lapping at the shore outside. If she let her mind go blank for even a second, she was right back in that cellar.

The moonlight flowing through the windows made it easier for Meredith to see as she stepped quietly through the hallway. The lack of templars bustling through made the area feel like it was frozen in time. Meredith wasn't focusing on where she was going. She couldn't even remember leaving the barracks. But she soon found herself outside of Knight-Captain Wentworth's office. She stood in the doorway, watching him look over his paperwork until he finally noticed her.

"Meredith?" his tired eyes softened. "Is everything okay?"

"Ser Wentworth," Meredith bowed her head as she felt a sense of shame wash over her. Was she really going to the knight-captain because she had a bad dream? "I didn't mean to bother you. I'll leave you to your work."

"Meredith," Wentworth repeated, this time much more stern. "If something is troubling you, I want to help."

Meredith could feel her lip start to quiver, but she hid it behind her hair. She kept her gaze lowered when she entered Wentworth's office and sat in the rickety wood chair across from his desk. For the longest time, she didn't speak. Wentworth went back to his paperwork, but it didn't bother her. The sound of his quill scratching against the rough parchment helped relax her racing mind. When she found the words, she could barely get her voice above a whisper.

"I had a nightmare again."

Wentworth immediately dropped his quill and pushed his paperwork to the side. The shame Meredith felt in her chest grew stronger. Her quivering hands tugged at the ends of her tangled flaxen hair.

"Just from the lyrium," Meredith stared at the threadbare rug beneath Wentworth's desk, straining her eyes in an effort to keep them from tearing up again. "I shouldn't have bothered you."

"Meredith, please," Wentworth reached his hand across his desk. "You know you can talk to me about anything."

There was no use talking to Wentworth about the incident. He was there. But Meredith nodded, hiding her face behind a veil of hair to cover her leaking eyes.

"I feel so weak, ser," she sniffed and rubbed her running nose with the back of her hand. "I could have saved at least one person. But I couldn't. All those people died while I hid like a coward."

Wentworth said nothing for the longest time. He took her trembling hands in his, which helped her feel more grounded. Meredith's hands were starting to grow rough from the years of rigorous training, but they were nothing like Wentworth's. The numerous scars and burns that decorated his aged hands told the story of a soldier who saw his fair share of battles. Including hers.

"Do you remember what you said to me when the templars found you?"

Meredith couldn't speak, but she nodded. Her nightmares always ended when she was still in the cellar, but her conscious mind remembered everything. She remembered holding her breath and praying to the Maker with every fiber of her being as the cellar door creaked open. As sunlight seeped in through the cellar, Meredith saw the form of a templar knight standing above her. If she wasn't already crying, she would have wept at the sight of the Templar insignia on his armor. Her prayers were answered.

"You pulled me out of that cellar," she squeezed Wentworth's hand tighter, recalling the moment she first saw him hold his hand out to her. "You explained everything to me."

"That has always been the worst part of my job," Wentworth let go of her hand and passed her a handkerchief. "And it happens far too often."

"I prayed to the Maker for my own survival, but I didn't bother to think about anyone else," she dabbed her aching eyes with the handkerchief.

"We must be remembering things differently then. The templars were going to take you to the orphanage, but you wouldn't have it. You _demanded_ that we take you with us. The moment you realized what happened, you knew this was the path for you," he chuckled. "I've seen captains with less fire than you had. There was no doubt about it: you were going to be a templar."

A snort escaped Meredith's nose. "I was a bit of a brat."

"No, you were dedicated and courageous. And do you remember what I said to you?"

Meredith's lips twitched into a smile. "'You will be a templar'."

Wentworth smiled back at her, the ends of his graying mustache curling up. "You were never one to take the easy path. After experiencing one of the worst moments a child could ever witness, you didn't want to run. You wanted to follow the path the Maker sent you on."

Meredith shrugged. "Anyone would have done the same."

"Not true. I know templar knights who are too frightened to go up against an abomination. You were a child when you saw the destruction they caused and you still knew this was the right thing to do."

She looked up at him with bloodshot eyes.

"No child should have to go through what I did. I want to make sure it never happens again."

"I know there isn't a lot I can do about the nightmares. But don't stray from your path. When doubts plague your mind, remember your cause. Your impressive combat skills may make you a good soldier, but it's your devotion that will make you a good templar."

Meredith stared down at her trembling hands.

"Amelia wasn't a bad girl," Meredith had to struggle to keep her voice level. "She didn't like using her magic. She didn't want it."

"A lot of mages aren't bad people by nature," Wentworth sighed. "But sometimes they are pushed to do bad things."

"But why did the Maker curse her?!"

The words exploded out of Meredith before she had the time to think about them. What used to only exist as an abstract idea in the back of Meredith's mind was now out in the open. Meredith sat back with wide eyes, waiting for the Knight-Captain to get angry with her.

Instead, he sighed and took her hand again.

"We can't always know the Maker's ways."

"I'm sorry, I…"

"There's nothing for you to be sorry about, my dear. With everything we templars are forced to face, sometimes we end up questioning our faith," he met her eyes. "If this starts happening with you, remember those families you are fighting for. Never forget why you became a templar."

Meredith bit her lip and nodded, pushing herself out of her seat.

"Thank you for your guidance, Ser Wentworth."

"It's the Maker who guides you, Meredith," Wentworth smiled, returning to his paperwork. "But I'm happy to assist in any way I can."

Meredith left Wentworth's office and went back to the barracks. She collapsed back down onto her cot and stared at the chantry symbol above the door until her eyes felt heavy. Then she fell into a peaceful dreamless sleep.

* * *

Meredith's eyes were still blurred from exhaustion. She was told that insomnia came with the job, but she knew she was in no shape whatsoever to face down an abomination. Still, she continued her duty patrolling the halls as usual. When she was working, she didn't have to think about the nightmares. She didn't have to dwell over how helpless she felt.

Something caught her eye when she reached the end of the hallway; a sealed envelope discarded on the floor. Meredith frowned and knelt down to pick it up.

The edges of the eggshell white envelope were slightly scuffed-up from the feet walking over it all day, but overall it still seemed to be in decent shape. The signet ring used to seal the envelope was adorned with the symbol of the Circle, so it was likely that this was a letter from a mage. The rest of the letters were sent out a week ago. This one must have been lost in the shuffle.

She continued to turn the envelope around in her hands. A letter home, most likely. Still, Meredith couldn't help but feel curious. Curious, or suspicious.

The mail room was just down the next flight of stairs, but that's not where Meredith went. Instead she took a sharp turn down the corner leading back to the barracks.

After the wooden door swung shut, Meredith tossed the letter onto her bedside table.

Looking over her shoulder, Meredith approached the envelope while reaching for the small knife she kept strapped to her belt. With bated breaths and careful hands, she slowly slid the sharp blade between the scarlet wax seal and the paper. She pulled away and the envelope fell open, the circular pink stain on the paper providing the only evidence that the seal was once there.

The knife was put away and Meredith reached inside the envelope, fishing out the letter-which had to be at least five pages in length. Each page was covered with orderly but dense handwriting. Meredith squinted her eyes and scanned the writing for anything that looked suspicious. Of course she knew that she would have to be thorough. It wasn't like a mage who was planning on acting against the Circle would say it so plainly. So Meredith sat down on her cot and began reading the letter line by line.

The first part of the letter detailed the mage's life in the Circle, but most of it wasn't that different from the usual complaints she overheard from apprentices. However, it didn't seem like the mage was making any real effort to escape. She did learn that the mage had a friend named Orsino who was purposely underperforming in his classes to avoid the notice of the Templars. Meredith found herself sharing the mage's frustration with him, but she didn't think the matter was worth notifying the templars about.

The details of the mage's life before the Circle came out more as the letter went on. She learned that her dog, Rosie, got sick. Meredith's chest tightened until she read further and found out Rosie got better. She learned that the mage had an older sister who would be getting married in the spring, but the mage would never be able to attend. She learned that the mage still longed for their mother's excellent baking.

Meredith was lying on her cot, pages of the letter strewn around her. The further she went, the less she was reading the actual letter that was in front of her. Instead her mind was back home, imagining herself patiently waiting for Amelia's letter from the Circle to arrive.

When the letter would finally come, Meredith and her parents would crowd around the fireplace to read it. Amelia was always a timid and fragile girl so her family knew the Circle would be hard on her. Meredith imagined the relief and absolute joy that would wash through the Stannard household when they received the letter informing them that Amelia passed her Harrowing.

Meredith was shocked back into reality when a single tear fell from her eye and onto the page below. She started to panic, but then she noticed there were already other similar tear stains on the paper. When she finally reached the end of the letter, her watery eyes struggled to focus on the signature.

 _"With love, Maud"_

She stared up at the ceiling, letting the last page slip from her fingers and onto the hard stone floor.

At least the mage had a family she could write to.

Meredith sat up, gathering the pages together. As she re-folded the papers carefully along the creases, she couldn't help but picture the fear Maud's family must have felt when her letters never reached them. Meredith was fairly sure she would have stormed the Gallows herself if she didn't receive confirmation that Amelia was safe.

The letter was slipped back into the envelope which was soon resealed to the best of Meredith's ability.

Her only motivation was to inspect the mage's letter to make sure she wasn't plotting against the circle. It was a simple plan. But as Meredith trudged to the mail room, she couldn't ignore the sinking feeling in her chest and the feeling of nausea in her gut.

Probably from the lyrium.

* * *

The longer the day went on, the more Orsino's classes felt like a blur. He didn't even think about the ideas he scribbled down as he tried to keep up with the enchanter's lecture. Often times he would read over his notes the next day and have no memory of writing any of it.

Orsino glanced over at Maud who was seated on the floor beside him. She wasn't writing. Her parchment was blank. The pen in her hand slowly wove in and out between her fingers as she stared out the window. She was completely lost.

Whatever Enchanter Ines was saying turned into background noise as Orsino gently nudged her with his elbow. Maud jolted up as if he zapped her with lightning. She looked back at him. Her eyes had a dazed appearance to them, almost like those of the tranquil. But the rest of her face looked grim and tired. She smiled as if to reassure him that she was fine, but it was obviously forced. Orsino knew what Maud's smile looked like. That wasn't it.

The class ended. Orsino's knees ached from sitting on the floor for so long. Just when he was about to talk to Maud, the enchanter stopped them.

"Maud," her voice was stern, but there was still a softness to it which was often missing when the templars spoke. "I need to have a word with you."

Orsino froze. It was difficult for him even to process all of the panicked thoughts that raced through his mind.

Maud looked at him. This time, she didn't bother to force a smile. The worry on her face was clear as day.

Having to walk out of that classroom alone was the most difficult thing he ever had to do. It was difficult to know just how much trouble Maud was in. The weeks after she received her letters from home were always hard on her, but Orsino noticed her studies were slipping more and more. If he could just find some way to help her…

"Where's your bodyguard?"

Orsino stopped walking the second the templar's voice interrupted his thoughts.

Soon enough, he was surrounded by a small group of templars. Orsino kept his head down so he never knew how many there actually were, but there had to be at least three or four. Looking them in the eye would just be taken as a sign of aggression, so he never attempted to check.

He heard one of the templars laugh. Before he knew it, a strong hand was shoving him against the cold stone wall. What had to seem like a playful push to the templar caused a sharp pain to erupt up the mage's back. Still, he kept his gaze lowered. It would be over faster that way.

"This one actually tried to hide behind Meredith," the templar's hand was still digging into his shoulder. Orsino didn't bother to resist.

The other templars laughed in response.

"Maker that's pathetic."

"You should have been there!" The grip on his shoulder tightened. "Almost didn't notice him. Until we saw those ears of his poking out behind her."

Rage began to simmer in Orsino's chest, but he pushed it back down. There was no point in resisting. It would only cause a scene.

"Does he speak?"

"I don't know," the hand started to shake him. "Come on, mage. Can you speak?"

Orsino finally brought himself to meet the templar's gaze. The templar was too close to his face. He couldn't look away. The templar's face wasn't particularly cruel. Dark hair, sleepless eyes, uneven stubble. He looked like any other young man, except he had the power to ruin Orsino's life.

"I...I can speak, Ser," he finally managed to stammer out.

"Looks like we got a prodigy on our hands." The templar shook him again before finally releasing his grasp. "What else can you do, mage?"

"Come on, Sven," one of the other templars chuckled. "You know the commander's gonna kill us if we're late again."

Orsino wanted to feel grateful, but it was clear that the templar didn't really care for his well being. This was all just a game to them.

The templar who was holding Orsino stepped backwards, then lurched forward to strike him. The hit never came. Instead he laughed when Orsino instinctively covered his face with his arms and sank down to the ground to defend himself.

"Stay out of trouble, mage," the templar grinned as if he was saying goodbye to an old friend. As if Orsino wasn't terrified for his life.

Orsino couldn't do anything other than nod as he struggled to stand up straight. The templars were much more merciful than they could have been, but he was still shaken. Some of the other apprentices passing by gave him concerned looks. He quietly reassured them that he was fine before hurrying to the library.

The table near the window was taken by another group of mages, but Orsino managed to grab one nearby. He sat down, positioning his chair so it faced the library entrance, and waited. His book never opened. He didn't move. He didn't allow himself to relax until he finally saw Maud walking towards him.

Before Orsino had a chance to ask her if she was okay, her eyes widened.

"Did the templars bother you again?"

Orsino noticed that his robe was askew from when the templar grabbed him. He shrugged and smoothed out his sleeves.

"It wasn't as bad. But what about you? Is everything okay?"

Maud let out a shaky breath, "Enchanter Ines said I haven't been doing well in my classes."

A chill ran up Orsino's spine, but he found a way to keep his voice calm.

"Is there something specific that's challenging you? I can help you study if you need it."

Maud shook her head.

"It's not that. It's just…" she sighed. "I've just been tired lately."

"Are you sure?" his fingers fidgeted against the leather cover of the tome. "If you need help, I'm here for you."

"I know, Orsino," Maud pushed her hair out of her face and smiled at him. This time it didn't look forced. "Thank you."

Orsino opened the book to begin studying. He waited for Maud to do the same, but it never happened. Her book remained closed. Her dark eyes were glazed over as she stared down at the table.

He pushed his book to the side.

"Maud…"

She shook her head, "It's nothing. I don't want you to worry about me."

"Too late."

Maud looked over her shoulder for a moment before meeting Orsino's eyes again.

"I feel like running away."

Orsino gasped and ducked his head down as if she had admitted to practicing blood magic.

"You shouldn't say things like that," he lowered his voice to a raspy whisper. "What if the templars hear you?"

"I'm not going to actually do it. There's no point," Maud pressed the side of her face against the old wooden table, her eyes drifting off into nothingness again. "But wouldn't you want to live some place where people don't automatically look down on you? Don't you get sick of people thinking they can do whatever they want to you because they know you can't do anything about it?"

"I'm an elf, so that's going to be my reality no matter where I live."

"But outside the tower, I can fight anyone who tries to mess with you."

Orsino let out a small laugh, "And out yourself as an apostate in the process?"

"You don't need magic to punch someone in the face."

They smiled at each other and for a split second, the worries weighing down Orsino's mind were lifted.

"I would love to show you my home," Maud's finger lazily traced over the patterns engraved onto the cover of the book. "My real home. Not here."

There was a part of Orsino's mind that knew talking about Maud's family with her would only make things worse, but she always looked so happy when the subject came up.

"Do you think your family would like me?"

"I talk about you so much in my letters, you're practically part of the family by now," her eyes swept over his thin frame. "Although, my mother will force you to eat the second she sees you."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Do you really remember nothing about your family?" Maud's voice softened. "I told you so many things about mine. I want to know more about yours."

A weary sigh escaped Orsino's chest. They had this conversation multiple times. It was true that he hardly remembered anything about his life before the Circle, but also he tried his hardest to not remember. Being locked in the Gallows was easier when he believed there was nothing else out there for him.

"No," he looked away from her for a moment. "There was nothing worth remembering."

"That's not true," Maud reached her hands out towards his. "That's your home. That's who you are."

"So who I am now is defined by who I was when I was five?" Orsino patted her hand and smiled. "Good to know."

Maud huffed, "You know what I mean."

Any response Orsino had was interrupted by the sound of someone loudly clearing her throat. Maud and Orsino snatched their hands away and sat up straight in their chairs. Orsino felt his blood run cold when he saw Meredith standing in front of their table. It was hard to tell how long she was standing there. He didn't hear her approach.

"Ser Meredith," Orsino's voice was barely detectable. All he could do was internally pray to the Maker and whoever else was listening that she wasn't there to hear the entire conversation.

Meredith barely acknowledged Orsino and instead turned her attention towards Maud.

"The letter you wrote," Meredith's voice still made Orsino want to run and hide, but there was something different about it. Something more...fragile. "I found it on the floor. It was dropped on its way to the mail room."

Maud nodded, her eyes wide and her hands vibrating against the table.

"Oh..."

Meredith was quiet for an awfully long time. Each second of silence suffocated Orsino more and more. At least the templars in the hall were straightforward. There was no way to get an accurate read on Meredith.

"I wish to discuss the content," Meredith spoke slowly, as if she was taking extra time to carefully piece each word together. "Of your letter, that is."

Maud stopped shaking.

"You read my letter?"

Meredith shifted in her heavy plate mail. It was strange to see a templar look so uncomfortable, especially when speaking to an apprentice.

"I simply wanted to examine it for any signs of corruption."

"And did you find any?" Maud's voice was trembling. But Orsino knew her well enough to know that it wasn't from fear. It was rage.

Meredith looked down at the floor and shook her head.

"No."

"Then what is there to discuss?" Maud stood up, her volume rising just enough to still be library-appropriate. "Letters are one of the few freedoms we mages still have, and you're going to confront me on that too?"

"I am so sorry for her behavior, Ser," Orsino tried to push Maud back down from across the table. "She's exhausted from studying so hard. She doesn't know what she's talking about."

"I know what I'm talking about, Orsino," Maud swiped his hand away. "I did nothing wrong, but the templars are treating me like I'm a criminal anyway!"

Meredith's icy blue eyes narrowed at her. Orsino was clawing at the cover of the book as his heart raced. Once again, the silence from Meredith felt like an eternity.

"I delivered your letter for you." Meredith spoke at last, but her voice was much quieter. "You're welcome, by the way."

Maud sank back into her seat in disbelief as Meredith left the library. The fire that was once within her was extinguished and replaced with cold fear.

It took a few minutes for Orsino to regain control of his breathing.

"What were you thinking?" Orsino whispered through his teeth. "You can't talk to a templar like that."

"I don't know," Maud buried her face in her hands. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"All we can do is hope she won't go to her superiors about this."

"Why wouldn't she?" Maud's voice broke. "What if we lose mail privileges because of me?"

"They wouldn't do that," Orsino reached across the table to rest a hand on her trembling shoulder.

"If the templars wanted to, there would be no way to stop them," her words were still laced with fear, but she seemed to relax momentarily under his touch. "We mages have no one to speak for us."

"What about the First Enchanter?"

Maud gave Orsino a look. Even he knew what he said was nonsense.

"First Enchanter Maceron, really?" she huffed. "Have you ever _seen_ him? I don't think he even exists. What if the templars keep a giant wooden puppet in his office?"

"Well, thank you for letting me know what my nightmares are going to be about for the next week."

"I just think that the First Enchanter should be someone who can speak for the mages," Maud looked away, sagging her shoulders. "Someone who can make us feel less alone."

"Maybe you should do it."

Maud snorted.

" _Me?_ You really think someone like me could become the First Enchanter?"

"Why not?" Orsino managed to keep his tone supportive, but in the back of his mind he was laughing at the thought of his mousy childhood friend becoming leader of the Kirkwall Circle. "You have a vision for the mages here."

"Maybe you should do it instead," Maud smirked at him. "You're better at getting through those boring magic books."

"True, but I deal with enough templars already. I can't imagine having to work with them on a daily basis."

"But the idea of being on equal footing with the templars does sound nice. Who knows. Maybe I could do it."

Orsino leaned forward, resting his head against the palm of his hand.

"You know…" he grinned at her. "If you want to become the First Enchanter, you're going to have to study."

Maud crumpled up a piece of paper and threw it at his head.


	3. Chapter 3

A loud thwack filled echoed through the training yard as Meredith slammed her sword against the straw dummy's metal plate armor. Each heavy breath she took burned its way down her throat. A few strands of her wavy blonde hair escaped her messy ponytail and fell in front of her eyes, but she didn't bother to push them away. All of her attention was focused on the sword in her hands and the anger overwhelming all of her other senses.

Of course she was angry at Maud. But most of her anger was directed towards herself. Honestly, what was she expecting to gain from approaching Maud in the library? What possessed her to do something so...idiotic? Were they going to have a heartfelt conversation with each other? As long as she was a templar and Maud was a mage that would never happen.

The sweat from Meredith's brow fell into her eyes, causing them to sting, but she kept swinging the sword.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. That interaction accomplished nothing except made her out to look like a fool. How could she expect any mage to take her seriously after that? She needed to find some way to show these mages that she couldn't be walked over. Then maybe…

"Stannard!"

Meredith's instructor's voice threw her out of her thoughts. Her heavy breathing began to slow down as she faded back into reality. The straw dummy was knocked over and practically in shreds under the armor. The other templar trainees were standing nearby, watching her with stunned and fearful expressions.

Her instructor was standing in front of them with his arms crossed firmly over his chest.

"Training is over, Stannard."

Meredith nodded and tried to make her way over to them, but a sudden pain erupted in her right shoulder. A strained shout escaped her throat. Her sword clattered to the ground as her arm began to grow numb.

Her instructor sighed and shook his head.

"That's what you get for overworking yourself. Go to the healers."

Meredith wanted to protest, but the pain was so intense she couldn't bring herself to do it. She clutched her arm to keep it steady and left the training grounds.

Each stomp from her angry footsteps caused smaller twinges of pain to echo through her sore shoulder. The mages walking through the halls would immediately clear a path when they saw her coming. She hardly noticed them. All she wanted was to get to the healers without any distractions…

"Ser Meredith?"

Meredith froze. Standing directly before her was Maud. The mage's wide eyes and the way she leaned away from her made it obvious that she was clearly nervous. Although not nervous enough that she wouldn't approach a templar.

"What do you want, mage?"

Maud bowed her head as if she was praying before an altar, her dark hair masking her face and muffling her frantic words.

"Please, please forgive me for my behavior the other day," her voice climbed a few octaves in that sentence alone. "I don't know what came over me, but I will never disrespect you again. I am so sorry."

At least she got an actual apology. But it wasn't enough to alleviate any of the anger she felt towards herself.

"I trust you won't make such a foolish mistake again. The other templars won't be as forgiving."

Maud nodded and opened her mouth to speak. She stopped when she noticed Meredith wince in pain as her sore arm moved.

"Are you hurt?" Maud took half a step forward as if she were approaching a wounded ferocious animal. "I can help you."

"It's nothing," Meredith hissed through her teeth, clutching her shoulder to keep it still. "Training incident. Just need to go to the healers."

"I can heal you now," Maud held her hands out, but made no further movement beyond that. "It's the least I can do to repay you for your generosity. Please. I know I'm only an apprentice, but I'm good at healing magic."

Meredith scoffed at the idea of letting an apprentice use her magic in such a fashion, but the sharp pain in her shoulder was hard to ignore and the feeling was only getting more intense.

"Fine," she clutched her shoulder. "But don't think I won't have you made tranquil if you try anything."

Maud nodded and followed her into one of the many offices that lined the hallway of the Gallows. The second Meredith sat down, Maud already had her hands hovering over her shoulder. A gentle blue light emanated from her palms.

"Where does it hurt?"

"Just the shoulder. Closer to the back."

Maud's hands moved and soon enough the pain in her shoulder began to fade away. Meredith let out a sigh of relief. She watched how purposely Maud's hands moved, how her brow knotted in concentration. Meredith remembered how she would have to beg Amelia to heal her when she would get scraped up from playing outside. When her sister was finally convinced, she was hesitant and nervous. The burning pain in Meredith's shoulder was replaced with a burning sense of shame deep in her gut. If only she didn't force Amelia to use her curse. Maybe then…

"Ser Meredith?" Maud's voice was barely a whisper, but it felt like she was speaking centimeters away from her ear. "Are you okay?"

Meredith jolted up and stared right back into Maud's worried eyes. The apprentice's concern only irritated her more. Did this mage forget that she was a templar?

"I'm fine," Meredith snapped back, averting her gaze. "You can't heal everything."

The healing magic stopped and Maud let her hands fall into her lap. Meredith's shoulder suddenly felt cold.

"You said you wanted to discuss my letter," Maud's fingers twisted together. "Did you still want to? Am I in trouble with the Circle?"

"I simply wanted to discuss…" what was there to discuss? Meredith tried to remember the details of the letter. "You mentioned that your friend, Orsino, is purposely underperforming in his studies."

Maud sighed, "It's frustrating. He's really intelligent, but he pretends not to be just because he doesn't want to get in trouble," her eyes widened. "He's not in trouble, is he?"

Meredith shook her head, "no, he's not. This was hardly worth mentioning."

"So…" Maud shifted in her seat. "Was that all?"

Meredith rolled her shoulder around.

"Your healing magic worked. You may go."

She expected Maud to spring up and bolt out the door the second she was given permission to do so. But she didn't.

"If you get hurt again, I can heal you," Maud kept her head lowered. "It's the least I can do."

Meredith's mouth went dry.

"You can't heal everything."


	4. Chapter 4

Orsino didn't see Maud in class.

He knew Enchanter Winfried's lecture contained valuable information that would help him expand his mind and his abilities as a mage (and more importantly, pass his Harrowing), but he couldn't concentrate. The area where Maud usually sat was empty.

What if something happened to her?

The thought felt like a knife to the stomach. It wasn't like he was jumping to conclusions. If a mage disappeared, that was never a good sign.

His palms were sweating. His heart rate increased. He couldn't breathe.

"Orsino."

Enchanter Winfried's rough voice brought him back to reality.

Class was over. He was the only one left in the room.

"My apologies, Enchanter Winfried," Orsino began to gather his things, but the enchanter stopped him.

"Stay. I need to talk to you."

Orsino stood in the middle of the room as the enchanter returned to his desk. His books were trembling in his arms.

"You're not in trouble. Relax," Winfried sighed and steepled his fingers against the desk. "But I need to talk to you about Maud."

Relaxing was not an option, but Orsino took a deep breath and braced himself for whatever the enchanter was going to say.

"What...what about her?"

"Maud has been underperforming in her classes and her absences have become more frequent," Winfried stared at him. "Do you know what could have triggered this behavior?"

"She gets homesick a lot, but it usually passes," Orsino stared down at his feet. "We just have to give her time."

"We can't just 'give her time'," Enchanter Winfried's voice sharpened as he stood up. "She isn't a child anymore. Her Harrowing is on the horizon. She cannot afford to behave like this for much longer."

"Yes, enchanter. I know. I want to help her."

"Then do so," he sat back down and Orsino could resume breathing. "Before the templars take notice."

Orsino nodded and hurried out of the room.

* * *

Meredith saw the apprentice again in the library.

"Ser Meredith?" Maud looked up from her book. In the past she always looked afraid when she saw her. This time, she just looked confused. Meredith didn't know if this was better or worse.

The library was mostly empty, aside from the small scattering of mages that would occasionally wander through.

"Why aren't you in class?"

Meredith saw Maud duck behind the pages of her book.

"I'm just doing some independent studying."

Meredith's eyes darted over to the unopened tomes and blank sheets of parchment stacked in a pile on the table.

"Studying hard, I see."

"...I'm taking a short break."

She sighed in frustration. Usually when apprentices were slacking off, they were better at hiding it. As long as the apprentice wasn't going to be doing her classwork, she should at least be doing something useful.

"I injured myself during training again," she made a show of rubbing her neck and grimacing. "I need healing."

"Oh, of course," Maud closed her book and slid it across the table.

"It hurts here," Meredith pushed her hair to the side and pointed to the back of her neck.

"What happened?" Maud's fingers ghosted over her skin, causing goosebumps to rise.

Meredith shook her head.

"I was careless during training. Don't worry about me."

Healing magic radiated from Maud's careful hands and Meredith held her breath.

"Is your ankle feeling any better?"

Meredith looked down at her left foot. She came to Maud about it a few days prior. There was only a small sharp pain in the joints, but she figured she couldn't be too careful when it came to her health.

"Yes," her fingers twisted around some strands of her tangled hair. "Like you said, you're good at healing."

Maud chuckled, "Well you are giving me a lot of practice."

"I'm only coming to you for minor injuries. I don't want to waste the healers' time."

"I know, I know," Maud's magic stopped, her hands returning to her sides. " I don't mind doing it."

Meredith pushed her hair so it covered her neck again. She let her gaze wander around the table until it fell upon the book Maud was reading. It certainly didn't look like any of the dense books the apprentices had to study from. Instead of a dusty leather cover, the front of the book looked glossy with bold lettering. Beneath the title was a rough painting of a young woman with tangled brown hair standing proudly behind a ship's wheel.

"Is the Circle is making you read that? " Meredith furrowed her brow.

Maud snatched the book up and gave a nervous laugh.

"Oh no, this is just something I'm reading for fun."

"I see," Meredith stared at the portion of the cover that peeked out from behind Maud's arms. "What is it about?"

Maud unwound her arms around the book and sighed wistfully at the cover.

"It's about this girl who travels the world by sea and goes different adventures," she ran her thumb across the blue-green waves painted on the cover. "Everyone needs their little escape from time to time."

"You like travelling?" Meredith stared at the expression of the girl depicted on the front of the book. The way the girl seemed to view the world with excitement, not fear. She missed that.

"Well, I imagine I would," Maud shrugged. "I never got the chance."

"I used to want to travel the world too," she couldn't stop the corners of her mouth from twisting into a small smile.

"You did?" the mage placed the book back on the table. "Why didn't you? I mean, you're not a mage."

Meredith sighed, "I learned that the world isn't an adventure, and I would be more useful as a templar. It's for the greater good."

The two sat in silence for a while, until Maud held the book out to her.

"You can have this if you want," Maud gave a small smile. "I already read it several times."

Meredith reached out for the book, but stopped herself.

"Why are you giving this to me?"

"Just because the world you live in isn't an adventure doesn't mean you can't read about a world that is," she pushed the book closer to her.

Meredith slumped her shoulders in defeat and accepted the book.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Although it's very important to me, so I'm going to need it back eventually."

"I have something for you too," Meredith set the book down and reached into her pocket. "Well, it's not from me, I'm just delivering it."

Maud tilted her head to the side, "What is it?"

"It's, um..." she sighed and pulled something out of her pocket. "Here."

She placed a small package into the mage's hands. The seafoam green wrapping paper was once smooth and perfectly-folded, but now it was crumpled and torn in places. The pearl-colored silk ribbon was once tied in an elegant bow, but now it was wrinkled and hastily tied into a simple knot.

Maud's eyes went wide, her mouth agape, and her fingers shook as she reached for one end of the ribbon.

"This is…" the mage took a deep breath. "This is my mother's wrapping paper."

"The Circle has a strict policy against sending gifts that are not letters, but I managed to salvage this one for you," Meredith spoke in the usual stern tone she used when addressing mages. "Of course I had to make sure the contents were appropriate. Hence why the wrapping looks...not as pristine."

"I can't believe you would do this for me," Maud had one hand on her chest as took a moment to catch her breath before untying the ribbon. Stripping away the wrapping paper was a small wooden box. Maud lifted the lid and gasped.

Inside the box were two cookies, golden brown with chunks of dark chocolate. A sprinkling of sea salt glistened on top of the chocolate pieces. Maud's eyes began to water.

"My mother's baking," she choked and covered her face with her hand, but her smile was impossible to miss. "It's been so long."

Meredith didn't say anything, although she doubted Maud would have heard her anyway.

When she lifted one of the cookies and took a tiny bite, the tears began flowing down her cheeks.

"It's like I'm home," she placed the cookie back into the box and faced Meredith with red eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. "I cannot begin to tell you how much this means to me. Thank you so much."

Meredith lifted one hand and looked away. "You don't have to give me thanks. I just know what it's like to be away from your family for a long time."

"Oh," Maud sat back against the bench. "I suppose that as a templar, you wouldn't see them that often either."

Meredith choked and her hands clenched into knuckle-whitening fists, but she nodded.

"Yes," she stared at the far wall, not allowing a single expression to leak onto her face. "It's been a while."

"Do they ever write you?"

Meredith felt her entire body grow cold.

"Not as often as I would like."

"I know what you mean," Maud smiled, but it was a small and sorrowful smile. "What are they like?"

Meredith's breath caught in her chest.

"I am so sorry," Maud held the box tighter. "That was completely inappropriate, I'm sorry."

"No, no," Meredith rubbed her forehead. "If you must know, I lived with my parents and my older sister."

Maud's face broke into a grin.

" You are the younger sister?"

Meredith was taken aback.

"Why do you sound surprised?"

"It's just…" Maud shrugged, flipping her thick hair off of her face. "You seem like a big sister to me."

"Is that so," Meredith couldn't find it in herself to inform Maud that she barely had any time to be a younger sister. She didn't know about her apostate sister, the abomination attack, all those lives that were stolen that day. As long as she didn't know, there was no harm in pretending…

"So, your big sister," Maud folded her hands on the table. "What's she like? Is she a templar too?"

Meredith felt like she was punched in the stomach. Her fingers twisted furiously together in her lap.

"No. She was, I mean, she is still living at home," her voice caught in her throat. "The poor thing could never leave."

Maud's pitying look caused burning hot shame to radiate through Meredith's body.

"You really miss your family, don't you?"

Meredith couldn't say anything. She turned her body away from the mage, clenching her hands into fists and forcing herself to remain stoic. She was not to show weakness in front of the mages. She couldn't let an apprentice see her like this.

She was thrown out of her thoughts when she saw Maud hold one of the cookies out to her.

Meredith shook her head, "No. There was a note. It said the other one is for your friend, Orsino."

Maud said nothing as she picked up the cookie she already took a bite of and broke it in half.

"What are you doing?" Meredith's voice trembled.

"It sounds like it' been forever since you had home-cooked desserts," she held the unbitten half closer to her. "And I understand that being away from your family is the hardest thing in the world."

She didn't remember reaching for it, but at some point the piece of cookie ended up in her hands. She stared at it, watching as the crumbs sprinkled onto her lap. She let out a sigh and took a small bite.

Despite being mailed to the Circle in a wooden box, the cookie tasted like it was freshly baked. The outside was crisp, but the inside was gooey and moist. The small scattering of sea salt cut through the overwhelming sweetness of the sugar and chocolate. After years of eating the usual bland food given to the templars, it felt like her tastebuds were being woken up again.

"Wow," Meredith desperately wanted to take another bite, but she managed to control herself.

"I know, right?" Maud sighed. "Maybe I could ask my mother to make cookies for the other templars."

The cookie half turned in Meredith's careful hands. Maud was right. It had been forever since she had home-cooked desserts. She was a little girl when her mother caught her sneaking into the kitchen to steal herself an extra slice of pie from the kitchen. It felt wrong for her to take part in such luxuries as a templar. That little girl was gone. There was no point in trying to cling to that old life.

Meredith handed her piece of the cookie back to Maud.

"You're not going to finish it?"

"I'm a templar. I need to focus on my health," Meredith stood up, straightening her armor. "And I've taken up enough of your study time."

"Okay," Maud's voice barely broke above a whisper.

"Maud."

"Yes, ser?"

Meredith sighed and bowed her head, unable to look at the apprentice.

"I know life in the Gallows isn't perfect. But you should be thankful. It's far better than the alternative."

She marched out of the library before Maud had a chance to respond.

* * *

Orsino ran through the halls as fast as his restrictive apprentice robes would allow. He would slow down to a reasonable pace whenever he passed a templar, only to resume his panicked running when he knew he was out of their sight. Maud's safety was the only thing on his mind. Most mages who disappeared were either discovered to be dead or tranquil. Although Maud missed only a few classes, Orsino couldn't help but assume the worst.

His search ended in the library. Maud was seated in a rustic leather chair, staring out the window overlooking the Waking Sea. The panic that was burning in Orsino's chest was extinguished. Only to be replaced with anger.

Maud didn't seem to notice him as he marched over to her table. Not until he slammed his hand on one of the unopened books beside her. Even then, she barely reacted.

"Oh, hello," she turned around and slid the book out from under his palm. "Just doing some studying."

"Why weren't you in class?" Orsino tried to sound as stern as possible, but he couldn't. His voice shook as he stared into his friend's eyes. Just a few minutes ago, he thought he wouldn't be able to do so ever again.

Maud shrugged, her hair falling over her face as she stared down at the table.

"I had a lot on my mind."

"You had…" Orsino sighed and sat down next to her. "I was so worried, Maud. I thought something had happened to you."

"I know. I'm sorry," she sighed and opened the book, absentmindedly flipping through the pages.

Orsino placed a hand on the upper edge of her book, gently pushing it back down onto the table.

"Maud, please. Talk to me," he pleaded as he struggled to make actual eye contact with her. "I want to know what's wrong."

Maud didn't speak. Her eyes drifted along the surface of the table. Orsino followed her gaze until it stopped at a small wooden box sitting in a nest of torn pale blue wrapping paper.

"What is that?" It certainly didn't look like anything that would be lying around the Gallows.

"It's a gift," Maud's voice caught in her throat. "From home."

"What?" Orsino squinted his eyes at the box. "How did you get this? I thought we were only allowed to receive letters."

"That's not important," Maud crumpled a corner of the paper between her thumb and forefinger.

"What is it?"

Maud's hand moved from the paper to the box itself. Her movements were slow and sluggish, but Orsino swore he saw that familiar glint in her eye when she lifted the lid. The same glint he would see when she spoke of her family.

"It's a cookie. My mother made them," a smile flickered on her face as she picked up one of the golden brown desserts and held it out to him. "Here. She made this one for you."

Dozens of questions were racing through Orsino's mind. Most of them centered around how a box of cookies was allowed into the Gallows. But instead of asking any of those questions…

"Is there salt on that cookie?"

"Uh, yes?" Maud frowned and tilted her head to the side. "Is that a problem?"

"It just seems a little weird."

"Really, Orsino?" she scoffed. "It intensifies the sweetness of the chocolate. Now eat it."

"I don't think we're allowed to…"

"Orsino," Maud cut him off. "If you refuse to eat my mother's baking, we are going to have a serious problem."

"Fine," he sighed and took the cookie from her.

Orsino was never one to complain about the food served in the Gallows, but that one dessert was more flavorful than anything he had eaten before in his life. It was almost too much. The edges of the cookie had a nice crispness to it, but the excessive amount of chocolate towards the center was way too rich for his tastes. But Maud was watching him with a grin forming on her face, so he figured there was no harm in forcing himself to finish the rest.

"Now we have to talk," He brushed the crumbs off of his robes and turned so he could face her.

The grin faded away and Maud sank back.

"Talk about what?"

"The enchanters are noticing that your performance in class is slipping. Something needs to be done before the templars notice too. If there's anything in particular that you don't understand, I will help you. Please," his voice cracked. "Please let me help you."

"I don't know," Maud shook her head, rubbing her eyes. "I don't know how you can stay so optimistic when you're locked up like this."

"It's not about being optimistic," a pit formed in Orsino's stomach. "It's about learning to appreciate the life you have."

"But that's not living, Orsino." She finally looked him in the eyes. The pain on her face felt like an arrow to the chest. "You deserve a better life than this. We all do!"

Orsino knew that this conversation was a lost cause for him. He knew that he could never help her. This injustice hurt more than anything he faced from the templars. He didn't have anyone outside the Gallows missing him. The Circle didn't take him away from anyone. It felt like Maud was suffering alone. No matter how many times he offered comforting words. No matter how many times he read her letters for her because her eyes were too watery to read them herself. No matter how many times he tried to imagine the people in his alienage missing him. No matter what he did, he knew he wouldn't be able to understand.

Maud always seemed to be desperate to uncover the secrets of his past, even though there were no secrets to be found. He had a feeling that it was out of some need to feel less alone; some desire to realize that someone was going through the same struggle she was facing. As time went on, Orsino saw this loneliness tighten its grip on her spirit. Comforting words weren't the only solution anymore. He couldn't let her feel lonely.

"You often ask me questions about my life before joining the Circle," Orsino spoke slowly, allowing himself the opportunity to abandon the subject. "Do you want to hear about it?"

Maud looked up at him, her eyes wide with disbelief.

"Yes, of course. But only if you want to."

Orsino took a deep breath.

"I was born in an alienage in Ansburg," he shook his head. "I'm sorry. It's been so long and I pushed a lot of it out of my mind."

"It's okay," Maud gently touched his upper arm. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"No, I want to tell you," Orsino closed his eyes as he struggled to conjure up even the smallest memory. "I don't think I had a permanent home. I just stayed with whoever was financially able to take care of me. So I moved around a lot. I remember nights when I was sleeping on the street because no one was able to take me in."

Maud didn't speak, but she held onto his arm tighter. It kept him grounded.

"I was five when I discovered I was a mage. The Circle was notified immediately. I was left at the front gate, waiting there alone until the templars finally came to pick me up."

"They just left you there?"

"Yes, but I understand," Orsino sighed. "I was far from the only orphan in the alienage. Not to mention that I was dangerous. I set a cart on fire."

"You always seemed to like fire spells."

"I was trying to keep warm. But my first night in the Circle," Orsino stared up at the library ceiling looming over them. "That was the first time I got to lie in an actual bed. I felt like I actually had a home and a family."

"Thank you," Maud smiled sadly, her shoulders sagging. "I can't imagine having to endure that."

"That's not why I'm telling you this," Orsino panicked as he looked into her eyes. "My home isn't in the alienage, it's here. My family isn't in Ansburg, it's here. It's you. You were my only friend. I just…"

Orsino's voice broke. He turned away from her and covered his face. When he finally spoke again, his words came out in a light whisper to prevent his watering eyes from spilling over.

"I don't want anything to happen to the only family I have."

For a while, neither of them spoke. Until Orsino felt Maud rest her head on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "Please, is there anything I can do to fix this?"

He let out a shaky breath.

"Study with me."

Maud pulled back.

"Right now?"

"Yes," Orsino wiped his eyes with his sleeve and grabbed one of the books. "We need to make up for all of the material you missed in class."

"If it will help you," she scooted closer to him so she could read over his shoulder.

Orsino knew that the traditional homelife Maud described would never be a reality of his. But as he sat in the library, going over old tomes with his friend, he couldn't help but wonder if this is what having a family felt like.

It felt perfect.


	5. Chapter 5

The icy cold winds whipped around the outside of the Gallows, stirring the ocean waves as they crashed along the shore. Even the thick stone walls and the many lit fireplaces weren't enough to protect those inside from the merciless winter.

Orsino pulled his winter robe tighter around his body as he navigated his way through the bustling mages crowding the halls. It was almost Wintersend, which meant even more letters were arriving at the Gallows. None of them addressed to him, of course. Orsino always wanted to believe that he wasn't bothered by this, but the fact that he was able to talk about his childhood with Maud caused him to suspect otherwise. Maybe he hadn't forgotten his past as much as he would have preferred.

He was prepared to walk right past the mail room as he had always done, but he was stopped by a slow and lulling voice,

"Are you Orsino?"

Orsino stopped in his place and turned around to see one of the tranquil standing in the doorway, a sealed envelope in his steady hands.

"Yes, I am," Orsino struggled to keep his eyes from focusing only on the sunburst symbol burned into the man's forehead.

"This is for you," with one fluid motion, the tranquil man presented the envelope to him.

His body went numb. He spent years imagining this very moment, but he had no idea how to react when it actually happened. There had to be a mistake.

"That can't be possible."

"Oh, my apologies. You said you were Orsino."

"I am, I just…" he rubbed his forehead. "I wasn't expecting to receive anything."

"This letter was addressed to Orsino."

"Yes, I am Orsino," he reached for the letter, perhaps with a little too much enthusiasm.

The tranquil man let the envelope slip from his fingers.

"Have a pleasant day, Orsino."

Orsino nodded at him before hurrying back through the hall. He couldn't even wait to get to the library before opening the envelope. Was the alienage finally reaching out to him? Why now? It had been almost two decades, there was no way any of them would remembered who he even was.

He stopped when he noticed how his name was written on the back of the envelope. Simple and neat handwriting, but there was a little face drawn in the center of each 'O'. There was only one person he knew who always wrote his name like that.

Maud.

For a moment, he felt a twinge of disappointment burn in his chest. He knew it was foolish to think anyone in the alienage would ever take the time to write to him. But why would Maud send him a letter? They saw each other every day and they've been friends long enough that there weren't a lot of things they couldn't say to each other's faces.

He had read the letter thoroughly by the time he entered the library. As usual, Maud was seated by the window, but the glass was opaque from the frost outside. She looked up from her studying and smiled.

"You're late."

Orsino held up the letter.

"I had some reading to get through."

"Oh good, I was afraid they wouldn't send it."

Orsino sat down next to her and smiled.

"Thank you."

"I sent so many letters to my family," she looked up to meet his eyes. "But I kept forgetting someone important."

"But why a letter?" he carefully folded the paper before slipping it back inside the envelope. "You know you can tell me anything."

"I remember you saying that you always felt out of place when the other mages were opening their letters," Maud shrugged. "Also there are things in the letter that I didn't want to say out loud."

"Like how you're smitten with Ser Meredith?"

"What? No!" she covered her face with her hands. "It's not like that!"

"Really? Because I was definitely picking up on something, the way you talked about her in the letter."

She jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow.

"Ow!" he flinched away from her, clutching his side.

Maud lowered her hands, her eyes widening.

"Wait, did I actually hurt you?"

"Yes, I think…" he smirked at her. "I need you to heal me."

"You're a jerk."

"Happy Wintersend to you too."

Maud grinned, then jabbed him in the ribs again.

"Happy Wintersend."

"I just wish I had a gift for you," Orsino sighed. "For a while, I actually forgot it was Wintersend."

"You don't have to get me anything," her expression softened. "You've already done enough for me."

"Maybe next year, I could send you a letter you could use to embarrass me."

Orsino expected her to laugh or at least jab him again, but she didn't. Her smile faded away. She stared down at the table. Her head hung low.

"Maybe."

Her change in attitude caught him by surprise, but he didn't say anything. He sat next to her in silence, allowing the whistling winds to fill the void in their conversation.

Years later, Orsino would often think back on this moment. He couldn't shake the feeling that maybe if he spoke up, things wouldn't have turned out the way they did.

* * *

Meredith held a bowl of lukewarm porridge in one hand as she used the other to knock on the door to Ser Wentworth's office. The Knight Captain's muffled voice granted her permission to enter. The door creaked as she let herself in. She sat down in a wicker chair near the far corner of his office as she always did in the evening and started to eat her dinner. Ser Wentworth took a break from frantically sorting through his paperwork to glance at the calendar on his desk.

"Meredith?"

She looked up from her porridge.

"Yes, Ser Wentworth?"

"Isn't today Wintersend?"

"Indeed it is," Meredith continued eating.

Wentworth smirked, "Surely you don't want to spend the holiday eating bland food with an old officer."

"As opposed to?" she raised an eyebrow. "Do you want me to leave?"

"No, of course not. I always value your company," he sighed and steepled his fingers. "But you're still young. You should be celebrating with your comrades, eating good food, having fun."

"I can't." Meredith sloshed her food around with her spoon. "I have to get up early tomorrow for training."

"I can assure you that no one will be able to get up early tomorrow."

"I'm sorry, but I can't lose sight of my purpose. I've been letting myself stray from it too much lately."

"Meredith…" Wentworth sighed pushed the mountain of paperwork to the side so he could look at her. "You know I admire your determination. But sometimes you need to give your mind a break. Yes, you are a templar and a brilliant one at that. But you are also a person who deserves happiness."

"But my training…"

"Would it helped if I ordered you to go downstairs and have a good time?"

Meredith huffed her breath and stood up.

"Fine. By your order, Knight Captain."

* * *

Meredith regretted her decision immediately.

The large number of templars and the roaring fire caused the mess hall to feel stuffy. Normally the scent of ale and cooked meat wouldn't have bothered her, but at that moment it felt suffocating. Not to mention the laughing, singing, and yelling from her fellow templars was overwhelming.

"You're here to have fun," she scolded herself. "So go have fun!"

She sat down in the corner with her porridge, hoping that the frantic energy in the room would somehow rub off on her.

The evening became easier to manage once she allowed herself to have one glass of mead. She still didn't talk a lot or act particularly wild, but she found that is was much easier for her to laugh along with her fellow templars without being overly critical of them-or herself. Since she spent most of her time training or working with Ser Wentworth, for once it felt like she was a part of something. For once, her mind wasn't on her path, but rather the people she was walking this path with.

That feeling lasted for about an hour. Sometime in the evening, Meredith came to her senses and her energy plummeted. She was exhausted. The simple act of keeping her head from hitting the table took all of her strength. The other templars would offer her a second drink, but she refused. She doubted she had the ability to hold her glass anyway.

The templars around her continued celebrating while Meredith let her surroundings drift around her. In her groggy state, she still managed to listen in on one of the conversations happening nearby.

"...speaking of which, I saw you checking out that apprentice."

"The curly-haired one? What can I say, I'm a man with needs."

Meredith's groan of frustration was swallowed up by the rest of the noise in the room. It was embarrassing, really. Being a templar was supposed to be a tremendous honor, but this behavior…

"I don't know who does the tailoring for those mage robes, but that person is doing the Maker's work."

Meredith slammed her fists on the table, causing some of the glasses to clatter and topple over.

"The people of this city are depending on us to protect them," Meredith's voice burned through the conversation like acid. "And you behave like this? This is how templars fall victim to desire demons! How can you expect to defend yourself and your people from evil magic, when you're too busy ogling the mage?!"

It took Meredith a second to realize that everyone's eyes were on her. The conversations stopped. Some of the templars shifted awkwardly in their seats while others whispered to each other.

Meredith's face burned from intoxication and her gut burned harder from humiliation. She stood up and stormed out of the mess hall. The second she closed the door, she heard the music and chatter resume behind her.

Storming the halls of the Gallows, she made her way to Ser Wentworth's office where she promptly shoved the door open.

Ser Wentworth hardly seemed surprised.

"Good evening, Meredith," he was obviously trying to suppress a smile. "I see you had a couple drinks."

"I just wanted to inform you that I failed your request. I made an utter fool out of myself."

"At least you tried," Wentworth mused before returning to his work. "Drink plenty of water and get some rest."

Meredith turned to follow his instructions, but she stopped before she was fully out the door.

"Also, I didn't have a couple drinks. I had one."

When she finally returned to the barracks, she collapsed face-first onto the bed. Her body felt like it was melting into the cushions and it felt like the humiliation was already washing away. With her face still pressed against the pillow, her hand groped the stone floor under her bed until her fingertips traced along the spine of a book. The book Maud leant her.

She kicked off her boots, grabbed the book, and bundled herself up in her itchy wool blanket. Another year of spending Wintersend by herself. She couldn't have been happier.

The light from the candle became a dull flicker by the time Meredith finished the book. Again. She sighed and flipped through the pages, until she came across something she hadn't noticed before: a message in black ink written on the inside cover.

To my special girl,

Even inside the Gallows, I know you will find some way to make your life an adventure. Please read this book if you ever lose sight of that spark.

With love,

Mother.

Whether from the lack of sleep or the alcohol, Meredith couldn't keep her tears from flowing. The rational side of her mind knew that the message wasn't written for her, but she couldn't help but hear her own mother's voice as she read it. Her mother would always humor her when she raved about her desire to travel, to go on adventures. She wondered what kind of message her mother would write her if she did get a chance to have those adventures. She wondered what kind of message her mother would send to Amelia.

Meredith traced her thumb over the words "with love". Hail pounded on the frost-glazed window. Tears continued to flow from her misty eyes until she no longer had the strength to keep her eyelids open.

Another year of spending Wintersend by herself. But for the first time, she truly felt the loneliness.


	6. Chapter 6

As the weeks passed, Orsino could practically feel the day of his Harrowing coming closer and closer. He didn't know when it would take place-no apprentice did. But he could sense it was coming from the solemn looks the enchanters would give him.

So he pushed himself to study harder than ever. His previous strategy of being only adequate wouldn't apply here. The Harrowing was a matter of life and death. His days were spent combing through as many books as he could get his hands on. His nights were spent pacing around his cell, repeating the information over and over in his head.

He studied with Maud, of course. Since they were roughly the same age, it was reasonable to assume that her Harrowing was just on the horizon as well. However, it didn't seem like she noticed. Most of their study sessions consisted of Orsino reading the information out loud while Maud stared off into space.

"Orsino."

He was on his way to his cell when he heard her voice.

Maud was sitting on her cot, her knees held tightly against her chest. It wasn't their curfew yet meaning her cell door was still open.

"Are you feeling okay?" The cot didn't even creak as he sat down. "Are you worried about your Harrowing?"

Through the darkness, Orsino saw Maud shrug.

"Not really," a weary sigh escaped her lips. "I've just been thinking."

"About what?"

"Do you remember when we first met?"

Orsino smiled and for a brief moment it was like his stress faded away.

"Of course. We had class together."

"And you set my hair on fire."

"I…" Orsino rubbed his forehead. "I told you I was sorry. I lost control of the spell."

"I know. I remember you were panicking more than I was," her smile was clear even through the darkness. "You refused to leave my side until you knew I wasn't hurt."

"I can't believe the enchanter still let us work together afterwards."

"That was my first day in the Gallows. You were the first person here who seemed to care about me," Maud's paused. "Even if you did set me on fire."

"Andraste's Grace, it's been ten years."

"I just wanted to thank you. Lately, I've been thinking back on my time in the Circle, and I can't think of any significant moment you weren't there for," her voice softened. "I know there are much stronger mages who go their entire lives in the Circle without having a friend like you. I don't know how they do it."

Orsino took her hands in his.

"You are strong, Maud. You've gone through struggles that I can't begin to understand, but you survived. Our Harrowings will come, and we will survive those too. Then we will be able to live without fear. We just have to keep working hard."

Maud's hands slipped out of his gentle grasp.

"Maud?"

"I'm sorry, I just…" Maud sank away into the shadows. "I don't think I'm going to do my Harrowing."

Orsino felt his blood run cold.

"But you have to do your Harrowing. It's either that, or you...or you die."

Maud shook her head.

"There's a third option."

"You don't mean…"

She looked up to meet his eyes.

"I want to be made tranquil."

Orsino felt like an iron fist was wrapped around his throat.

"No," Orsino got off of the cot and began pacing around her cell. "No, no, no! Do you know what you're saying?!"

"I do, Orsino," her hand reached out to grip his wrist, bringing his frantic pacing to a stop. "It will be better this way, I promise."

"How?" h e sat back down, her hand still around his wrist. "Why would you willingly do this?"

Her body trembled.

"I can't stop thinking about home, and all of the moments I'm going to miss. I'll never get to see my sister's wedding. I'll never get to meet my niece or nephew. I stopped opening their letters, but it didn't help. The idea of my mind being clear for once..." Maud's breath hitched. "It's the closest I'll get to ever feeling free."

Orsino reached out and wiped away the tears that were falling down her cheeks.

"You can be free without making yourself tranquil. I still believe you can pass your Harrowing."

"And then what, Orsino? I spend the rest of my days locked up here? Only living for the days I get a letter from home? Getting abused by templars? Being treated like a criminal?"

"I know it's terrible here," Orsino's voice trembled. "But at least you're alive."

Maud's grip on his wrist tightened. Her head fell forward, resting against his shoulder. In a faint whisper he heard her say,

"This is no life, Orsino."

Orsino's eyes filled with warm tears. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her as tightly as he could, as if doing so would prevent her from slipping away.

"Apprentices!" an enchanter's voice rang through the halls. "Return to your cells!"

Orsino didn't want to leave, but he had little choice on the matter. He stood up, keeping his hands on Maud's shoulders.

"Please don't do this, I'm begging you. I know my reasons are selfish, but…"

He didn't want to imagine her tranquil. He couldn't. Her eyes still had sparks of life in them. Her toothy grin still looked the same as it did when she was a kid. He couldn't lose that. He felt sick to the stomach at the thought of seeing her again, but with the sunburst symbol branded into her forehead.

The image wouldn't leave his mind, even as he was lying in his own cot that night. His eyes burned from weeping. He couldn't breathe. He rolled over onto his side and saw the heavy cell door that was preventing him from leaving his tiny room. Maud's words echoed in his mind.

This is no life, Orsino.

Orsino squeezed his eyes shut and for the first time in years, he prayed. Prayed that when he woke up the next morning, everything would be okay.

* * *

Somehow amidst all of the stress and emotional turmoil, Orsino found the ability to fall asleep. This didn't last. He was abruptly forced awake by the sound of his iron cell door being forced open.

"What…" Orsino squinted as he forced himself to sit up in his cot. Through his blurred vision, he saw the vague form of two armored templars standing in his doorway. If he wasn't awake before, he certainly was now.

"Get up," one of the templars spoke. It seemed like he was trying to keep his voice down so he wouldn't wake the other sleeping apprentices, but it still caused a shiver to run up Orsino's spine.

Orsino scrambled out of his cot as fast as he could, all while his mind was racing. His anxiety was justified, right? No good could possibly come from this.

The templars gestured for him to follow them out of his cell and he had no choice but to comply. He couldn't breathe. His nausea was so bad, it felt like he had just swallowed glass. The templars didn't speak to him as they lead him through the impossibly dark hallways of the Gallows. Neither of them bothered to tell him what was going on, but they didn't need to.

Their walking continued and soon enough, Orsino began to recognize the area he was being lead to: the Harrowing chamber. Orsino wanted to scream and run away in the opposite direction. Why now? He wasn't ready! There were still some creation magic concepts he didn't study hard enough. Not to mention his crisis with Maud made it near-impossible for him to recall any of his studies. He glanced up at the chantry symbol decorating the otherwise bare stone wall. It seemed like his prayer went unheard. Either that, or the Maker had a sick sense of humor.

The heavy doors slammed behind them and Orsino found himself in a large circular-shaped room, completely empty except for the bowl of glowing blue lyrium in the center.

Two figures were standing near the bowl. He recognized one as Knight-Commander Guylian, standing proud in his embellished templar armor. Orsino never had the privilege of meeting the knight commander in person, but he still felt uneasy in his presence.

The other man was First Enchanter Maceron. Orsino made a mental note to let Maud know that the first enchanter was not a wooden puppet, but a living person. Well, maybe. The enchanter's form was frail and his face withered. The way he held onto his staff made it seem like he would crumble to the floor without it.

"Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him."

The knight commander's voice cut through Orsino's fears, but somehow only amplified them.

Orsino took a series of deep breaths as he tried to relax before slowly making his way towards the bowl of lyrium. All while staring towards the giant chantry symbol adorning the far wall.

It couldn't be too late for his prayer to be answered.


	7. Chapter 7

Orsino gasped and fell out of a cot onto the hard stone floor. He felt like he was carelessly tossed onto the land after almost drowning, but somehow worse. His throat stung as if he had been screaming at the top of his lungs. His limbs felt heavy and sore. His head was spinning. His ears were ringing. It felt like his stomach was about to crawl out of his throat.

With slow, sluggish movements, he pushed himself onto his back and saw a mage looking over him.

"Are you awake now?"

Orsino groaned in response. Eventually he found the strength to sit up, but he still had to lean against the side of the cot. After a few moments of careful breathing and staying still, his mind began to focus. The room he was in was definitely larger than his cell in the apprentice quarters. There was another cot pushed against the far wall as well as a small table positioned towards the center of the room.

The mage knelt down in front of him. He was a human around Orsino's age with neat dark brown hair and pale gray eyes.

Orsino's eyes instantly fixed on the ugly bruise on the mage's left cheek.

"What…" Orsino croaked, before his voice gave out.

The mage smirked and gently touched the bruise.

"The fourth time you awoke, you thought I was a demon."

Orsino paled.

"The fourth?"

"Perhaps you will stay awake this time. What's the saying...seventh time's the charm?"

"I don't…" Orsino stopped as the nausea quadrupled in intensity. He lurched forward, dry heaving against the stone floor.

The mage bolted to the other side of the room before quickly returning with a bucket. Orsino felt like he was going to die at any moment, but at least he had someone to hold his hair back.

When it was done, Orsino collapsed back onto the ground, the cold stone sending waves of shock through the overheated skin on his face.

"How do you feel?"

Through heavy breaths, Orsino managed to respond,

"I want to die."

"That feeling will pass eventually," he paused. "Maybe not."

The mage knelt down in front of him and extended a hand.

"Quentin."

Orsino peeled his face off of the floor and held out his own clammy hand.

"Orsino."

"Congratulations on passing your Harrowing."

Orsino's eyes widened, his hand slipped out of Quentin's grasp.

"I...I passed?"

"Yes. It's all over."

The aching pain Orsino felt all over was still very much present, but at that moment he didn't care. The emotional catharsis resulting from everything that had happened was enough to bring tears to his eyes. Maud, his Harrowing, everything. He felt more free than he ever had before.

"I passed," Orsino couldn't help but laugh out of shock. "I can't believe I passed!"

He gripped the edge of the cot as he forced himself to stand up.

"I have to tell Maud."

The second he tried to stand, his vision went white and he found himself toppling right into Quentin.

"It's advised that you remain in bed until your mind recovers," Quentin pushed Orsino back onto the cot.

"But I have to tell her!" Orsino struggled to sit up, but Quentin pushed him back down again.

"I get it, Orsino. I'm a romantic. But there is nothing romantic about collapsing down the stairs in front of a woman."

"Oh no, we're not…"

"Rest," Quentin insisted. "She will still be there when you wake up."

Orsino no longer had the strength to argue with him. His eyes closed and he drifted off to sleep. He could still hear the voices from the Fade screaming in the back of his mind.

 _Why didn't you help me?_

 _Why weren't you there when I needed you?_

 _I am finally at peace._

* * *

-Author's Notes-

i'm sorry for having two baby chapters in a row. i promise the next one is a lot longer.

also i know quentin is from starkhaven. i have an in-story workaround, i promise.

i had to sacrifice some canon for the sake of the narrative flow.

i'm sorry.

i love you.


	8. Chapter 8

When Orsino finally awoke, his mind was still groggy, but at least most of the pain had subsided. Perhaps the Maker finally came through. But as the physical pain wore off, the memories of his Harrowing became even more tangible in his mind. The Fade, his encounter with the demon, the memories were almost enough to make him feel nauseous again. He imagined the stress he was feeling outside of the Fade certainly did not help.

Quentin was sitting at the small table, furiously writing on a sheet of parchment until he noticed Orsino sit up.

"Oh good. You're awake," he stopped writing with a rather theatrical sweep of his arm. "I brought you dinner."

Orsino didn't realize how hungry and thirsty he was until he saw the shallow dish of broth and metal cup of water on the table. He pushed himself out of bed and sat down across from Quentin.

"How are you feeling?" Quentin resumed his writing, so it seemed like he was only partially paying attention.

Orsino almost ate half of the broth before he remembered it would be wise if he paced himself.

"Better. Much better," he took a sip of the lukewarm water. "I never expected the Harrowing to be this physically exhausting."

"Would you dare call it...harrowing?"

Orsino scoffed and rolled his eyes, but he smiled nonetheless. It looked like he was going to have to get used to having this Quentin around. It was so easy talking to somebody like Maud, but Orsino already found himself running out of things to talk about with this relative stranger.

"What are you writing?"

He meant it as a simple ice-breaker, but Quentin's eyes lit up as if he was waiting for him to bring up the subject.

"Just a letter," he looked down at his parchment, obviously suppressing a smile. "I don't want to bore you with the details."

"All right. Sorry, I won't pry-"

"Well since you asked, I suppose I could tell you," Quentin placed his pen onto the table. "You just have to promise not to tell the templars."

"Uh-"

"There was this girl, back in Starkhaven. Eleanor," his entire face relaxed and he looked as if he were staring off into another world. "I met her before I was transferred here. She would sometimes visit the shops in the courtyard outside the tower. We could only speak through the caged window, but...I can't explain it. It's like I knew that the Maker wanted us to be together."

"If the Maker wanted you to be together, He wouldn't have made you a mage." is what Orsino wanted to say, but he found it easier to just smile and nod while Quentin continued his monologue. The longer he went on, the clearer it was that he didn't care whether Orsino was actually listening to him or not.

"...she is a noblewoman and a scholar. Her eyes shimmer more than any jewel in Thedas. Her voice is more captivating than any demon."

"Well it's good to hear your relationship is built on a lot."

"I know what the Maker must have felt like when He first heard Andraste's song.

"Just to be clear, you are comparing yourself to the Maker, right?"

"You just need to read my letter. Then you will understand," he picked up one of the sheets of paper and slid it across the table.

Orsino squinted his eyes as he struggled to make sense of the sprawling handwriting. Through the dense forest of ink splattering and frantic scribbles, Orsino managed to make out an incoherent mess of confused metaphors, gag-inducing romantic platitudes, and what had to be the most disturbing euphemisms Orsino ever had the misfortune of reading.

He must have done a bad job hiding the look of disgust on his face as he set the letter down, because Quentin frowned at him.

"What? Did you not like it?"

"It's a little…" he racked his brain, trying to find a nicer way to say creepy . "...horrifying?"

"Well, I wasn't aware that I was speaking to the Gallows' expert of romance," Quentin huffed his breath, rolling his eyes. "How would you write this?"

"I don't…" Orsino sighed, twirling the letter around his his hands. "Why not write something nice, but simple? Something like 'I enjoy your company and I hope we can see each other again'. "

"Really?" Quentin frowned. " That's the best you can come up with? I felt absolutely no passion from your words."

"All right, fine. Maybe I'm not equip to help you write your love letter," he handed the letter back to him.

Quentin took the piece of paper and sighed.

"I suppose I did come off as a little intense."

"Maybe you should try to find the line between 'I enjoy your company' and 'I want to cut off your skin and sew myself into it'."

"That's not fair. My letter wasn't that creepy," he chuckled and set the letter aside. "What about that girl? What was her name...Maud? How would you write this sort of letter to her?"

"I wouldn't write a love letter to Maud. She's my friend. There has never been anything romantic between us."

Quentin looked shocked.

"Really? I assumed…" he paused. "You kept calling out her name while you were passed out."

"You'd think we were childhood friends or something."

"Okay, okay. Forget I said anything."

Orsino no longer had the desire to eat. His memories of the Fade were pounding away inside his mind, desperate to escape. He could feel his headache returning. His skin felt cold. It was getting harder and harder for him to breathe.

"Orsino?" Quentin pressed the back of his hand against Orsino's sweating forehead. "Are you alright?"

"Can we talk about the Harrowing?" Orsino clutched the front of his own robes and forced himself to steady his breathing. "I can't stop thinking about my encounter with the demon and I don't know who to speak to about it."

"You're only supposed to keep the details of the ritual a secret from the apprentices and outsiders, so we can talk about whatever you want," Quentin pulled his chair around the table so he could sit closer to him. "What happened?"

"I saw Maud," Orsino rested his head in his hands. He couldn't look Quentin in the eyes. "The Harrowing is supposed to test us, to make sure we're strong enough to resist a demon. But there's no way I was strong enough."

"But you're here, so you are strong."

Orsino shook his head.

"The night before my Harrowing, Maud told me that she…" Orsino's voice broke and he had to stop to catch his breath. "...she told me she wanted to be made tranquil. She could no longer handle her life in the Gallows. I couldn't stop thinking about her. Even as I entered the fade, my mind was consumed with the knowledge that I couldn't help her."

Tears were already escaping Orsino's eyes, so he made more of a point to hide his face from Quentin. But his shuddering voice probably gave him away.

"I saw her in the Fade, or at least an image of her. She was either screaming at me for not helping her, or staring at me with that horrible sunburst symbol burned into her forehead," he wiped away his hot tears with the back of his sleeve. "But I walked right past her."

Quentin placed his hand on Orsino's trembling shoulder.

"For you to walk out of the Fade after experiencing such emotional turmoil takes an incredible amount of strength. It's the sign of a talented mage."

"I don't feel strong," he whispered. "I feel like I failed her."

"You know what I think?" Quentin stood up. "I think you need to see Maud again."

Orsino tried to stand up as well, but his legs still felt weak so he had to use the table to support himself.

"Do you think I could make it down the stairs?"

"I can carry you downstairs on my back."

"I would prefer it if you didn't…"

Any further comment was interrupted by a heavy door being slammed open and full-armored templars marching through the hall.

"All mages are to return to their cells at once!" one of the templars hollered. "The tower is now on lockdown!"

All around them, cell doors were being forced shut with a loud clang!

Orsino felt his heart skip a beat when his own cell door was slammed closed. The sense of powerlessness he felt in the Fade came back with full force.

"We can find Maud later," Quentin peered through the bars of the cell door to investigate.

"I hope she's okay," Orsino joined Quentin, resting his overheated forehead against the cold iron.

"What do you think is going on?"

"I don't know," Orsino sighed. "How much do you want to bet it's some apprentice who made a tasteless joke about being a blood mage? Surprisingly common."

"I hope it's a scandal. We don't get enough of those."

"Plenty of tragedies."

"This floor is secure," one of the templars signaled before they began to clear out.

Orsino pulled at the cage door. Unsurprisingly, it didn't budge.

"Are they even going to tell us why the tower is on lockdown?"

"You assume the templars would tell us anything?"

"I would have expected them to keep information from the apprentices, but we're official mages now," Orsino watched helplessly as the templars stormed out of the dorms, leaving nothing but locked-up mages behind them.

"And now they're supposed to treat us differently?" Quentin sighed and returned to the center of the room. "Well as long as we're locked in here, you can help me with my letter."

"Great. I'll get the bucket."

"You just completed a very difficult Harrowing, so I'm going to allow the attitude," Quentin smirked and sat down behind the table. "For now."

Orsino would have joined him, but he found that he couldn't bring himself to remove himself from the cell door. He wrapped his hands around the cold iron, peering out over the empty hallway. These were the Mage's Quarters. It was still taking a while for the reality of the situation to set in. He no longer had to live in fear, or at least not as much fear. He was safe from ever being made tranquil. He faced down a demon in the Fade and survived. He was an official mage.

He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against the iron bars.

It was hard for him to feel powerful from behind a cell door.

And it was even harder for him to feel powerful when his best friend wasn't safe yet.

* * *

The Apprentice Quarters were in a panic. Cell doors were slamming shut. Templars were running through the hallways in a frenzy.

Meredith couldn't trace the source of the chaos. There were other templars who would bump into her, but none of them would tell her what was going on. She burned with frustration. It was embarrassing to see the Templar Order behave with such little direction. Where were the authorities?

It took her a while, but eventually her questioning lead her to a small group of templars who were crowded around the entrance to a storage closet. Their legs were trembling, their eye wide as they looked at the closet door. Some of them appeared to be drawing straws.

"Hey!" Meredith barked.

The templars instantly looked towards her, but the fear in their eyes didn't diminish.

"I've just been informed that the tower is on lockdown," she marched towards them. "Who orchestrated this? Who caused this panic?"

A young templar stepped forward.

"I was instructed to fetch one of the apprentices for her Harrowing," he scratched his patchy beard as he averted his eyes from Meredith's cold stare. "But she slipped out of my grasp and ran into this closet."

"We sensed magic coming from inside," one of the other templars added.

Meredith felt like she was punched in the stomach. No. Not this again . She did everything she could to appear stoic in front of the templars, but her face was cold and her hands were sweating. This was the moment her templar training was preparing her for. She wasn't going to be powerless this time. Now, she could finally make up for her past mistakes.

"You!" she pointed her finger at a few templars who were hurrying past them. "Go inform Knight Captain Wentworth."

The templars nodded and disappeared down the hallway.

Meredith took a deep breath as she paced in front of the remaining templars. What was she doing? She wasn't a commander.

She immediately pushed her insecurities to the back of her mind and focused on the task at hand.

"Whatever happens after I open this door, we will be prepared," Meredith wrapped her hand around the hilt of her sword, more for support than anything. "Because this is what we've been training for. This tower and this city are filled with people who cannot defend themselves against what we've been training to fight. And we will fight to defend these people."

Meredith's heart raced and she clutched her sword tighter.

"Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter. Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just."

She turned around to face the door. This was it. This was the moment her path was leading her to. Meredith felt as if she was going to burn alive from the newfound energy that pulsed through her body.

She kicked the door off of its hinges.

The energy she felt before evaporated into a chill.

Her body froze.

The voices of the templars behind her dissolved into silence.

The sword slipped from her fingers and clattered onto the stone floor.


	9. Chapter 9

"What if we die in here?" Quentin was reclining back on his cot, his head dangling over the edge. "What if there's an abomination on the loose?"

Orsino sat behind the table, flipping through the pages of the only book they had in their cell. The book was about Orlesian gardening techniques, so it wasn't like the information was particularly useful. But it was something to keep his mind occupied.

"You don't think at least a few of the templars would come set us free?"

"Are you being serious right now?" Quentin sat up, his face red from being upside down for so long. "If there is an abomination, any templar with half a mind will be miles from the Gallows the minute an escape is possible. If the templars forget about us, we're as good as dead."

"The Gallows used to be a prison tower," Orsino mindlessly flipped through what had to be an incredibly interesting chapter about fertilizer. "It still feels like one."

"At least prisons are managed. What's going to happen to us if we're trapped in here? You know, people resort to eating each other in situations like this!"

Orsino scoffed,

"We'll probably die from the cold long before we have a chance to resort to cannibalism."

"Or one of us will kill the other in a fit of madness."

"Can you two lighten up?!" A voice hollered from the cell next to theirs. "The templars just left!"

Quentin sighed and rolled back onto his cot.

"If I die in here, I'll never be able to see her again."

Orsino stared at the cage door and realized that he was having the same thought as Quentin. The last time he saw Maud, he was wiping away her tears and promising her that he would come back for her. The thought of her agreeing to be made tranquil made him want to rip the door off of the stone walls and run to her.

Then there were footsteps. Heavy footsteps stomping through the hall. Soon enough, the cage doors were being pushed open.

"The lockdown has been resolved," a templar gruffed as he pushed Orsino's door open. "You may resume your studies."

"Is this the part where you tell us why the lockdown occurred?" Quentin sat up in his cot.

"That is official Templar business," he looked down at Orsino.

"Are you Orsino?"

"Yes, ser," he stood up, hoping that his heavy mage robes were hiding his shaking legs. The sickness he felt after coming out of his Harrowing was returning at full force.

The templar stepped to the side, gesturing for Orsino to follow him.

"Come with me. Knight Captain Wentworth wishes to speak to you."

Orsino couldn't speak or breathe, but he nodded. Casting a worried glance over his shoulder at Quentin, he quickly shuffled after the templar.

* * *

The other inhabitants of the Gallows seemed to be resuming their normal routines after the chaos, but there was a storm brewing inside Orsino's mind. The hallways felt longer than they ever had before and it felt like the walls were closing in around him. The templar never even acknowledged him as he escorted him through the chambers.

Orsino hadn't walked this much since before his Harrowing. That and the anxiety pulsing through him caused him to feel light-headed. In an act of desperation, he leaned against one of the heavy stone walls to prevent himself from collapsing onto the ground.

"What's the matter with you?" The templar stopped, his critical stare burning into Orsino's consciousness.

"I'll be fine," he managed to force out through bated breaths, before pushing himself off of the wall.

Orsino never had to meet with the knight captain before, but he knew no good could come from this. Everything he might have done to anger the templars raced through his mind. What if he didn't actually pass his Harrowing? That would make sense.

His heart beat faster as he got closer to the knight captain's office. To his surprise, Meredith was posted outside his door. Her arms were folded tightly across her chest and her head was hung low so her long blonde hair obscured her face. Orsino might have imagined it, but he swore she looked away as he got closer.

The templar opened the door and all but pushed Orsino into the office.

"I brought him, knight captain."

"Thank you," Knight Captain Wentworth responded from his desk. "That will be all."

The templar made a quick salute before turning around and leaving Orsino alone with the knight captain.

Wentworth gestured for Orsino to sit down across from his desk, but he couldn't move. His eyes darted around the sparsely-decorated walls to the knight captain's cluttered desk. The full weight of the moment crashed upon him when his gaze crossed the iron Templar insignia welded onto the far wall-the only decoration in sight.

There was no use waiting anymore. Orsino took a deep breath and took a seat in the chair on the other side of Wentworth's desk.

"First, I believe congratulations are in order," Wentworth began slowly. "For passing your Harrowing."

Orsino didn't know if it would be more respectful to look the knight captain in the eyes or to avert his gaze, so he stared at the templar insignia on the front of his armor.

"Yes, ser. It's an honor to finally be a member of the Circle of Magi."

A weary sigh drew out of the knight captain's chest. In the dimming candlelight, the older man's graying hair looked completely black, but his face looked aged and gaunt. The proud armor of the knight captain seemed to be weighing him down. He steepled his fingers together and lowered his head.

"There's no easy way to tell you this, Orsino," Wentworth looked up, forcing him to meet his gaze. "Your friend, Maud, has passed away."

Time stopped. Orsino was frozen in his chair. He couldn't breathe. His heart climbed up his throat as he prayed that he somehow misheard the knight captain.

Wentworth was still speaking, but Orsino wasn't able to process any information. Anything the knight captain was saying to him was reduced to a distant drone except for a few words:

...locked...

...manic…

...scorch marks…

Orsino could only pay attention for a few seconds before his mind blocked everything out again. He stared at the wood grain on Wentworth's desk, losing himself in the dark swirling patterns.

"Orsino?" The knight captain sounded like he was speaking behind a wall of thick glass.

It took Orsino a while to come back to reality, and even then he still felt like he was in a daze. When his eyes finally focused, he saw that Wentworth was holding a simple white envelope out towards him.

"The templars found this in her chambers. It's addressed for you."

Orsino's arm trembled as he took the envelope and held it close to his chest. He brushed his thumb against his name which had been written in black ink on the back. This time with no faces written in the O's. That had to be a sign that none of this was real.

"It will be understandable if you need to take a break from your studies for the time being," the knight captain's voice was soft, softer than Orsino was used to hearing from the templars.

Orsino took a series of deep breaths and nodded. As he stood up, he pressed the envelope against his chest as hard as he could.

"She's with the Maker now," Wentworth spoke just above a whisper.

The Maker was the last thing on Orsino's mind as he left his office.

The walk through the hallways was a blur. Orsino wondered if this is what the tranquil felt like. Mages and templars drifted past him, their voices meshing together in one aimless blur. Every time he turned the corner, he expected to see Maud. She was always there. She couldn't just be...gone. The idea of living in the Gallows without her made no sense.

A spark of anxiety burned through his near-tranquil mindset as he passed the apprentice quarters. He wanted to investigate, but he couldn't. Too many templars, swarming around the quarters like ants near an open wound. He didn't want to deal with them. It would be easier to retreat to his new quarters.

The iron door groaned as Orsino let himself into his room. Quentin looked up at him from the table.

"What happened?"

"Maud. She's…" he couldn't finish. The tranquility he felt shattered.

Orsino collapsed to his knees. The pain of hitting the stone floor didn't register. This wasn't the Fade. This wasn't a dream. This was real. That girl he met in that one primal magic class, the one whose hair he accidentally set on fire, she was gone. Those days of studying in the library were over. He would never get the chance to tell her about his Harrowing. He would never be able to listen to her read her letters from home. He felt cold, but at the same time he was burning up inside.

The despair crawled up his chest and squeezed its fist around Orsino's throat. He could have saved her. He could have done something. He knew she was miserable, why didn't he do something? The demon was right; he was too weak. The demon…

The demon…

"Orsino!"

Orsino was on the floor, his face wet with tears and sweat. Quentin was kneeling beside him.

"I'm sorry." Quentin bowed his head. "I can't begin to imagine the pain you're in."

Orsino tried to respond, but any words dissolved into incoherent sobbing. The envelope was still in his arms. He held it close.

"She's gone," he could only speak in a whisper. "I don't know what to do."

"We can start by getting you off of the floor."

Quentin looped his arm around Orsino's waist and lead him to his cot. The pillow instantly became wet with tears.

"Why couldn't I help her?" Orsino's lips quivered around the cup of water Quentin handed him. "She was in pain and I couldn't do anything."

Orsino rolled onto his side, pulling the itchy wool blanket tighter around his body. The uncomfortable blanket wasn't enough to distract him. The sound of the Waking Sea lapping at the shore wasn't enough. The feeling of the stiff cot against his cheek wasn't enough. There was a piece of Maud in all of them.

He remembered studying with her during the winter months, both of them bundled in a rough blanket as their only protection against the cold. He remembered watching the waves with her through the tiny window in the library as a desperate attempt to imagine what freedom felt like. He remembered the time she brought him soup from the dining hall when he was sick and unable to leave his cell.

All he wanted was a break from the pain he felt. He wanted to breathe without choking on his own tears. He wanted to stand without shaking and falling to his knees. He wanted to think without his thoughts automatically returning to her.

He just needed sleep.

When Orsino closed his eyes, they stung so badly it felt like they've been open for years.

Sleep wasn't an option for him.

"Why didn't you help me?"

Orsino's eyes snapped open and he woke up with a gasp. The gasp soon dissolved into more breathless sobs. He passed his Harrowing by ignoring the demon's temptations, but what if the demon was right?

What kind of mage was he?

What kind of friend was he?

Orsino had been locked inside the Gallows for many years. He endured the strict rules, the harsh punishments, and the abuse from templars.

But for the first time, he truly knew what it felt like to be powerless.


	10. Chapter 10

Meredith couldn't focus on her shift. The reality of Maud's death wouldn't leave her mind.

She tried to tell herself that it could have been worse. She had seen worse. At least only one person had died this time.

That wasn't good enough. Meredith's duty was to protect people from mages, including the mages themselves. If only she had gotten to that closet sooner. She could have put Maud under the careful watch of the Chantry sisters. Worst case scenario, Maud would have been made tranquil. But at least she wouldn't be dead.

This wasn't personal. It couldn't be personal. Maud was just one mage. Just one life. Just one more life she let slip carelessly through her fingers.

Maybe it was a little personal. She couldn't get the image of the empty closet out of her mind-the scorch marks being the only sign of what had happened. The destruction wasn't as bad as what happened to Amelia, but the lack of destruction continued to haunt her.

Meredith looked down at the book in her hand; the one Maud loaned to her. What was she supposed to do with this now? It didn't feel right to just give it away to the Circle's library, but she certainly didn't want to keep it. Realistically speaking, the book would be sent back to Maud's family. Meredith's fingers gripped the book tighter. Her stomach churned at the thought of the young mage's family receiving the news. A young girl was dead because of magic. Meredith became a templar to ensure that no one else would suffer the same loss she experienced. What kind of templar was she?

Her shift ended near the chapel set up on the far side of the Gallows. It was nowhere near as grand as the actual Chantry, but little corner provided the mages and templars with a convenient place to pray. Or hide.

Meredith moved between the rows of benches, keeping her eyes open for any signs of trouble. Her search came to a stop when she reached the front of the altar.

Orsino was sprawled out on the floor, staring up at the bronze statue of Andraste that loomed over them.

She frowned and stepped closer to him.

"That's an...interesting position to pray in."

"I'm not praying," Orsino's voice just barely vibrated past his lips. "Just thinking."

The mage sat up on the cold stone floor, reclining his neck against one of the benches behind him. His face was an expressionless mask, but his vivid green eyes were bloodshot. He looked as if he had aged decades since she last saw him.

The sorrow Meredith felt couldn't have been anything compared to what was racing through Orsino's mind. Her throat went dry. She thought back to the moment Ser Wentworth first held his hand out to her-the moment she became a templar. She remembered Wentworth carefully explaining the tragic events that just took place. She remembered crying into his armored shoulder. She remembered how he gave her a brief distraction by letting her swing his sword a few times. She had lost everyone she ever knew and cared for, but she didn't have to be alone.

This was part of a templar's job too. She had to comfort him. But what was she supposed to say? What was she supposed to do? Her mind went back to that tragic day in the cellar. What did she want after she witnessed that horrible tragedy?

Meredith reached out and gently patted the top of Orsino's head.

Orsino's hollow expression morphed into one of confusion, and he looked up at her.

"Did you just pet me like a dog?"

Meredith snatched her hand back.

"Sorry."

Meredith didn't know what else to say, but she couldn't leave the mage unattended. In a careful move, she sat down next to him. Through the corner of her eye, she saw Orsino's brow knot in confusion again, but he said nothing.

The silence between them was eating her up at first, but soon she discovered a certain calmness to it. Meredith kept her eyes fixed on the bronze statue, watching her reflection distort itself in the polished surface. Maybe she didn't have to say anything. Maybe to the mage, just having another person in the room was enough.

"Do you need something?" Orsino's voice sliced through the silence.

Meredith was taken aback, and without thinking responded with the first words that came to her mind.

"I'm sorry for your loss. She's at the Maker's side now."

Orsino looked up at her, a scowl forming on his face.

"Everyone is sorry. But are you, really?"

Meredith knew her words were painfully predictable, but she was still stunned by Orsino's reaction. With an exhausted sigh, he rolled his eyes and turned away from her.

"Everything the Chantry had taught me says otherwise," his tone was quiet, but biting. "The Chantry taught us that we're cursed. The Chantry also taught us that anyone who takes their own life will not be welcome to join the Maker's side."

Meredith felt her face burn with shame.

"Look, I didn't…"

"She hated her life here so much that she would risk eternity in the Void just to escape," Orsino's voice trembled as he struggled to choke out the rest of his words. "And I couldn't do anything to help her."

Orsino's voice became incomprehensible through his heavy sobbing, although at this point it came off more like dry heaving.

Meredith's hands clenched into fists against the stone floor. She couldn't bring herself to feel angry at the mage. In a sense, she understood him. She had these same thoughts, although she made sure to bury them in the depths of her mind.

Orsino's body was shaking as he clawed his fingers through his dark hair. Words alone couldn't help him. But she couldn't just leave him there. Mages and strong emotions don't usually end well.

Taking a deep breath, Meredith held Maud's book out to him.

"Here," she kept her gaze to the floor. "It was hers."

Orsino looked up, his eyes widening.

"Why do you…"

"She loaned it to me," Meredith's fingers tightened around the weathered spine of the book. "You should have it."

Orsino took the book from her hands without saying a word. The book trembled as he flipped through the pages. When he reached the note scribbled on the inside cover, his lip quivered and his eyes became glazed over with fresh tears.

"Why did it have to be her?" he pressed his forehead against the book, leaving his voice muffled. "Why would The Maker allow her to be a mage? She didn't deserve this."

Meredith chewed at her lower lip as she stared up at the bronze statue.

"There are moments when our faith is tested," her low voice was almost drowned out by Orsino's shuddering breaths. "But we must remember that the Maker has a plan for all of us."

"Forgive me if this is out of line," Orsino slumped against the bench, placing the book on his lap. "But I don't see how a templar's words are supposed to make me feel better."

The shame Meredith felt burned even hotter. Maker, she was just making this worse. But what was she supposed to do? She thought back to the day when she first met Wentworth. She was left scared and alone by the tragedy that had just occurred. The knight captain reassured her that everything would be okay. When he reached out to her in that cellar, it was like the Maker Himself was offering her His hand. Someone all-powerful who could dry her tears and tell her that everything would be okay-that is what she wanted.

But not everyone wants that. She remembered the brief moments when she allowed herself to talk about her family with Maud and how much she missed them. Maud wasn't a powerful knight captain who reassured her that everything would be okay. She was someone who was feeling something similar to her. She was someone who made her feel less alone in her mind.

Meredith closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and said the words she had never spoken to anyone other than Wentworth:

"My older sister was an apostate."

Orsino sat up straighter against the bench, confusion morphing onto his face.

"What?"

Meredith nodded, the memories already causing tears to prickle in her eyes. Her body tensed up as she struggled to find the words to the horrible incident she never had to describe to anyone else before.

"My family hid her from the templars. We thought she wouldn't be able to handle living in the Circle. But we didn't know how to handle a mage," some strands from Meredith's ponytail fell free, obscuring her face. "She couldn't control her powers. Our neighbors notified the templars."

Meredith held her head in her hand, digging her nails into the skin on her forehead. She tried to come off as controlled and stoic as a templar should be. But she couldn't stop the rest of her words tumbling out of her mouth between choked breaths.

"Amelia was so scared when she saw the templars," she wiped her eyes with her sleeve, not even able to register the shame of crying in front of a mage. "She ran into the kitchen to hide, but when she came out…"

Meredith couldn't continue. Just revisiting the memory was horrible enough on its own. But no words could properly describe the dreadful sight of her older sister twisting and distorting into that horrible creature. She knew she couldn't talk about the deaths without bursting into tears at the memory of her parents screaming for their lives behind her as she ran.

"Seventy people," Meredith strained to control her breathing, desperately trying to return her voice to its normal level state. "Seventy people were killed by the abomination before the templars…"

Once again, she couldn't finish. But this time she felt that there was no need for her to do so. The memory was so overpowering that for a moment she forgot she was telling her story to a mage. Humiliation flowed through her. Through the veil of her messy blonde hair, she looked up at Orsino.

It was hard to interpret his expression through her bangs and her blurred vision, but it looked like a combination of pity and extreme discomfort.

"That's…" the mage picked at the hems of his sleeves. "I...I'm sorry, I'm not sure what I'm supposed to say."

Meredith felt completely exposed and the shame of sharing such a personal story made her want to pass out.

"I'm not going to try to pretend that I know how you feel," her fingers twisted against the cold floor. "But after I lost my family, there was a part of me that wanted to know that I wasn't alone. You don't have to be alone with your loss."

Orsino shook his head, rubbing his brow with a trembling hand.

"I just don't understand how you don't question your faith after experiencing something like that."

Meredith sagged her shoulders.

"I do. Almost every day."

Orsino looked up at her in shock.

"Are you serious? But you've always seemed like the ideal templar."

"The knight captain told me that it's okay to question your faith, but remembering the Maker's path for you can help you be strong. Even when you're at your lowest."

Orsino's gaze fell back down to the stone floor,

"I can't imagine the Maker's plan being any good. What am I supposed to take from this? That we mages are destined to have empty lives with no hope? That I should expect to lose everyone I care for?"

"I became a templar because I didn't want anyone to lose their family to magic the same way I did. I wanted to make up for the times when I was not strong enough to help," Meredith leaned her head back against the pews. "Perhaps something similar will happen with you. It won't bring her back, but her memory can still inspire you."

Meredith knew that if Wentworth was the one speaking to the mage, his words would be a lot more natural and comforting. Her heart and gut clenched like a tight fist as she watched for Orsino's reaction.

He sighed, shrugging his shoulders.

"She always believed I could do something good for the Circle."

Meredith nodded stiffly and stood up.

"But take your time to grieve. That's just as important," she extended a hand to him. "Come. I need to finish my patrol and I can't leave you unsupervised in here."

"Just give me a moment," Orsino closed his eyes. "I need to think."

Meredith knew she should have refused his request, but she couldn't bring herself to do so.

"All right. But don't be long."

"Here," he held the book back out to her. "I can't keep this. It doesn't feel right."

Meredith wanted to protest, but she nodded and took the book from his hands before turning around to leave the room.

As she moved to return to the hall, Orsino's voice called out to her.

"Meredith?"

Meredith stopped in her tracks and turned around.

The mage was still seated on the floor in front of the altar, a look of desperation painted across his face.

"Does it ever get easier?" his voice trembled. "Will I ever feel normal again?"

Meredith thought back to the nights lying awake in her cot, her mind plagued by the lyrium-induced nightmares. She thought about the pain in her chest that she felt whenever she remembered her sister twisting into that monstrosity. She thought about how that horrible day would replay in her head whenever she dressed in her templar armor, reminding her of her path.

It would have been easy to give Orsino a comfortable lie. But it wasn't right.

"You're going to feel different from now on. Every day, you're going to feel like something inside of you is missing," she bowed her head, her hair obstructing her face. "But it might get easier, but only because you will be stronger."

If Orsino gave a response, she didn't hear it. She hurried out of the room and into the hall. An exasperated sigh escaped her lungs as she pressed her forehead against the rough stone wall. Her fingers trailed across the Templar insignia adorning the front of her armor.

Meredith didn't become a templar for any sort of personal gain.

And at that moment, with her head pressed against the wall, an aching in her chest, and a sobbing mage in the other room, personal gain was the furthest thing from her mind.

* * *

End of part 1, woo.

I don't know when I'll start posting part 2. We'll see.


	11. Chapter 11

It didn't get easier. The weeks following Maud's death weighed heavy on Orsino's shoulders. He couldn't sleep. He barely ate. He didn't leave his bed. The floor of his cell was littered with books carelessly tossed to the side. Nothing of substance; just distractions.

Sixteen days after her death and Orsino stopped feeling altogether. The tears ran dry. He couldn't move. Even the pain was dulled, but only to be replaced with a thick fog that obscured his other emotions. His days were spent staring blankly at the wall. Thinking nothing. Feeling nothing.

Maybe it was better this way. No one knew how to act around him. Most people would apologize. Every apology felt the same. The sincere ones, the awkward ones, the rehearsed ones, the pitying ones. All they did was remind Orsino of his pain. In fact, everything outside of his new quarters was a reminder.

The only person who could stand to be near him was Quentin, but they shared a room so it wasn't like either of them had much of a choice. Quentin had this glow about him, a shield of joy that protected him from Orsino's unrelenting misery. Apparently Eleanor responded positively to Quentin's letters, instead of with absolute horror like Orsino suspected. Whenever he would receive a letter from his lover, Quentin had the same shine in his eye that Maud used to get whenever she heard back from her family. It was a reason to get up in the morning. It was a short moment where someone could forget they were a mage and be fooled into thinking that they were a real person.

Orsino would have killed to have a distraction like that.

Quentin floated into the room, a slender bouquet of white lilies tucked carefully under his arm. Orsino stopped bothering to ask how he was getting these items smuggled into the Gallows. Mostly because he no longer cared.

"You're still in bed," Quentin murmured, but it didn't seem that he was attempting to start a conversation so much as he was just trying to fill the silence.

The silence returned when Orsino rolled onto his side, his back facing Quentin.

Behind him, he heard a sigh and the gentle rustle of the lilies being set down on the table.

"Maybe if you just-"

"Don't," Orsino cut him off.

"I want to help you, Orsino,"

"Unless you can bring her back, I don't want to hear it."

Orsino heard Quentin sigh again.

"I can't stand to watch you waste away like this."

"That's all we can do most of the time," Orsino furrowed his brow as his fingers picked at the frayed ends of his blanket. "All we can do is watch as the ones we love suffer. Because what can we do? We're mages. It's not like I could cast a spell that would make her happy. I couldn't make her life worth living. I couldn't…"

Orsino looked over his shoulder and saw Quentin sitting across the room, simply nodding as he spoke.

"Talking about it should help."

Orsino turned back around, pressing his forehead against the cold stone wall.

"Whatever. I'm not going out there. This cell is the only place in the Gallows that doesn't constantly remind me of her."

"You're finally talking, so I'll consider today a major step forward," the cot creaked as Quentin stood up. "I'll bring you dinner again. Any preferences?"

"I don't care. It all tastes the same."

"Well, that's Circle cuisine for you," Quentin responded with a chuckle. "I'll be back soon."

The cell door jolted closed as Quentin left, and once again Orsino was alone. He let his arm dangle off the side of his bed for a moment before sliding his hand underneath his mattress. After a bit of searching, his fingers found the envelope containing the letter from Maud. Still unopened. Orsino closed his eyes. His cell disappeared. The Gallows disappeared. All that mattered was that envelope. The last piece of her he had left.

Orsino opened his eyes, a ragged breath escaping his lips.

He couldn't open it yet.

It just didn't feel right.

* * *

Meredith rushed through the halls of the Gallows with a stack of paper held tightly against her chest. Her body was sore and her hair was still sweaty from practice, but she didn't care. Wentworth asked for the report five hours ago, but she got so caught up in training that it slipped her mind. She didn't even have time to scold herself for her carelessness. There would be plenty of time for that after the paperwork was delivered.

She skidded to a stop when she finally reached the door to his office. Meredith allowed herself a few seconds to fix her hair and armor so she didn't look like she just ran there from the other side of the Gallows, although her flushed skin and heavy breathing probably gave that away.

"I am so sorry, Knight Captain," Meredith opened the door, forgetting to knock in the commotion. "Training went on longer than I expected. It won't happen again."

The surface of the Knight Captain's desk could hardly be seen from underneath the mountains of paperwork strewn about. Near the corner of the desk was a bowl of room-temperature stew, still mostly full from lunch, or possibly yesterday's lunch. The spoon was on the floor below where it most likely fell.

Wentworth was sitting behind his desk, his eyes lost in a vacant stare. He didn't seem to notice that Meredith was even in the room.

"Knight Captain?" she cautiously stepped closer to him. "Is this a bad time? I can come back later."

Wentworth blinked a few times then sat up straighter in his chair.

"Oh, Meredith. I didn't see you come in."

"I brought the report you asked for," Meredith held the papers out. "I'm sorry for not getting it to you sooner."

Wentworth stared at the report in her hand.

"Report?"

"From this afternoon," the shame Meredith was already feeling in her gut burned even more.

"Oh, yes," Wentworth spoke slowly as he reached a hesitant hand out for the papers. "Thank you. I'll look over this now."

Meredith watched as the report joined the ocean of paperwork on his desk.

"Do you need help organizing some of this?"

The Knight Captain shook his head,

"That won't be necessary. You've already done so much for me."

He's angry at you for being late with the report. He knows you'll just mess everything up again. Just like you did during the lockdown.

Meredith tried to push these thoughts to the back of her mind and nodded.

"Thank you, Ser," she stopped to wave away a fly that was circling over the bowl of stew. "Can I at least clean this up for you? It looks like it's been sitting here all day."

"Oh, I forgot about that," Wentworth laughed. "Got so caught up in work. You can clear that out if you'd like."

"Right away, Ser." Meredith picked up the bowl and hurried out of the office, just anxious to get out of the room.

Meredith didn't know if it was the embarrassment or the bowl of old soup in her hands that was making her feel sick to her stomach. Usually Wentworth's office was the only place where she could feel relaxed. Whenever she would eat dinner with him or help him with his work, it almost felt like she was with her family again. She felt safe.

But something was different. What if it was her fault? It had to be. She acted out of line during the lockdown. She should have done something sooner. A young mage was dead because of her.

Meredith didn't mourn Maud, but the shame ate at her just as much as despair would have. Some of the other templars praised her for her bravery, but there was nothing brave about what she did. She didn't save the Gallows from an abomination. She found the remains of a life that would still be here if she acted faster. Wentworth would have known what to do. That's why he was ashamed of her.

These thoughts continued to cloud Meredith's mind as she entered the mess hall. Before she stepped into the kitchen to clean the bowl, she couldn't help but pick up on a conversation between a couple chantry sisters sitting nearby.

"I'm telling you, the Knight Captain is losing it."

"I believe you. He's been acting a little...off lately."

"Lyrium will do that to you."

"Such a shame."

Meredith didn't make it to the kitchen. The bowl was left abandoned on one of the tables as she escaped to the relative comfort of her quarters.

It was easier to think that he hated her.


	12. Chapter 12

Orsino could only feel somewhat at peace when he was lying in his cot. A thick book was open flat on his chest and his neck ached when he craned his head up to read it. Weeks ago, Orsino asked Quentin to bring him any book from the library. For whatever reason, his cellmate returned with an outrageously long tome about the history of the Free Marches. Orsino had no idea how a book so dry and dense could also be so devoid of content, but at least the words gave him something new to look at.

The cell door slid open and Orsino's eyes darted up. He expected Quentin to float inside and begin overwhelming him with his tiresome hope for the future, but that didn't happen at all. Instead, Quentin stood over him, his shadow blocking the light Orsino was using to read.

"Yes?"

"I'm going to tell you something," Quentin began slowly. "But you're not going to like it."

Orsino didn't say anything. He simply closed his book and looked up at Quentin, prompting him to continue.

"You need to get out of your cell, Orsino," it sounded like Quentin wasn't even bothering to mask the desperation from his voice. "For your sake. I know it feels easier to just lie around and soak in your own misery, but that's only going to cause you to keep spiraling."

Orsino sighed, letting his head fall back against the pillow.

"I don't want you to start worrying about me."

"I've been worrying about you for a whole month, Orsino. That's why I'm forcing you to start taking care of yourself."

Orsino closed his eyes.

"It feels like I can no longer move."

"Then I'll help."

Before Orsino could react, Quentin looped his arms around him and pulled him out of his cot. Orsino squirmed and struggled in his grasp.

"Let go of me," Orsino tried to wriggle away, his feet barely brushing against the stone floor from the height Quentin was holding him at.

"It seems like you can move just fine," Quentin let go of Orsino so he could stand properly. "Also I didn't want to say anything at first, but you really need to bathe."

Orsino scowled,

"Why do you care?"

"Because I'm the one who has to share a cell with you, but we can discuss this later," Quentin took a step back to open the cell door further. "Let's just walk to the mess room and back. Won't even take ten minutes. Then you can go back to your moping."

Orsino almost objected out of sheer instinct, but he knew that if he refused he would have to listen to Quentin bugging him about it all day.

"Fine," he sagged his shoulders and trudged towards the open door.

"Wonderful," Quentin beamed. "You're one step closer to feeling like yourself again."

"It's just a short walk. Relax."

What was supposed to be a short ten minute walk felt like an eternity. It was like the scar tissue that formed over the wound was ripped open and the pain came flooding back. This wasn't right. Whenever they would turn a corner, he swore he could see her. He used to walk these halls with Maud. She used to be here. She used to be alive. She used to not be some scorch marks burned into a closet wall.

Orsino's vision went white and he fell to his knees. He could hear Quentin calling his name, but his voice was distant and distorted like he was hearing it from underwater. When he finally returned to his senses, Quentin was sitting next to him on the floor, gently rubbing small circles into his back.

"I'm sorry," Quentin whispered. "I shouldn't have forced you to do this so soon. It's okay if you aren't ready."

"Can we go back now?"

Quentin nodded and helped Orsino back to his feet.

Orsino didn't feel calm until they reached the area of their cell. Peace was only a few feet away. Just a few more feet and he would feel safe again. Just a few more-

"Orsino?"

The two topped and turned around to see a young mage. Even though she knew his name, Orsino didn't recall ever seeing her before.

"What is it?"

"I haven't seen you around in a while. I'm Elsa," she tucked a few strands of her short blonde hair behind her ear. "I didn't get the chance to say I'm sorry. For your loss, that is."

This was exactly what Orsino feared. Even after a month, the apologies only felt like another twist of the knife.

"Yes, it's a shame what happened," Orsino was about to motion Quentin to start walking back to the cell again.

"But maybe this will be the final push the Circle needs to start listening to us more."

Quentin tensed up. Orsino stopped dead in his tracks.

"What do you mean?" Orsino's voice trembled.

"I just-" the mage trailed off, obviously trying to backtrack her previous statement. "Maybe her de...maybe what happened to her won't be in vain. Maybe-"

"Maud was not a martyr," Orsino tried to keep his voice down, but there was no way to cover up the bitterness that soaked his words. "She is a dead seventeen-year-old girl."

"I'm sorry, I-"

"Orsino, let's go."

"What makes you think anyone would start listening now?" Orsino moved his arm away when Quentin started tugging at his sleeve. "It's been a month and nothing has happened. No progress, no effort, not even a fucking ceremony. All that has happened is that I get to hear about how sorry everyone is, but how sorry are you? If people were actually sorry, maybe-"

"What he means to say is 'thank you'," Quentin grabbed Orsino by the back of the collar. "Maker watch over you, and all that."

As Quentin dragged Orsino back into his cell, tears fell down the young mage's cheeks. Orsino didn't feel as bad as he probably should have.

Quentin practically shoved Orsino into the cell before forcing the cage door closed.

"Do you want to talk about what just happened?"

"No," Orsino was already climbing into bed.

"I can't believe you said that!" Quentin paced around the cell. "She was just trying to be nice."

"Why would she?" Orsino muttered as he stared down at the floor. "She didn't know me and I didn't know her."

"Some people like showing kindness to others. You should try it sometime."

"Well, I'm sorry I'm not a joy to be around after what happened."

"Yes, I know. But," Quentin sighed. "At some point, you're going to have to rejoin the rest of humanity."

Orsino raised his eyebrows.

"Or elf...ity," Quentin shook his head. "Whatever."

Orsino sighed, "Maybe it would be best if I stayed here."

"No, and I'll tell you why," Quentin moved closer so he was standing over Orsino. "You clearly don't care about your mental health, but what about the Templars? They're going to notice eventually."

Orsino scoffed, "I passed my Harrowing. What would the Templars even do to me?"

"They could lock you up in solitude, Orsino," Quentin's voice broke. "Do you understand? Solitude."

"Perhaps they should," Orsino mumbled into his pillow, his eyes still fixed on the stone floor. "Maybe then I'll finally get some peace and quiet."

When Quentin didn't respond, Orsino looked up at him. His hands were clenched into fists that trembled at his sides. The hurt etched into Quentin's expression was impossible to miss.

"After just one day in solitude, after just one day alone in the dark with nothing but your own mind to keep you company," Quentin's wavering voice was quiet, but it still made Orsino's blood run cold. "Maybe then you will finally understand just how much you need people."

Orsino didn't even hear the sound of the cell door slamming when Quentin stormed out. All he could hear was the emptiness. The gentle splashing of the waves outside, the creaking of cots in the other cells, the echoing thuds of footsteps through the halls. The faint suggestions of life. Orsino's breath hitched and, for the first time in a month, he started to weep.

It didn't take him a day in solitude. Just a few seconds alone in his cell and he understood.

He needed people.

But he didn't deserve them.

* * *

Meredith couldn't go about her job without her mind eventually winding back to Wentworth. Being a knight captain was dangerous work, but Meredith never had to face his mortality before. The very idea that Wentworth would forget something so simple like a report or his lunch was just absurd. Wentworth wouldn't do something like that. He was the ideal captain. The perfect image of what every templar should strive for. He was…

She made the same mistake again. There was a time when she would have looked up to her mother and father in the same way, only for them to be taken away from her. The templar order was supposed to have matured her. But here she was, idolizing someone like she was still a little girl. Now she was going to lose him too. Maybe the only person she could put her faith into was the Maker. The Maker wouldn't disappoint her or abandon her.

Her walking came to an abrupt halt when she saw Orsino making his way through the halls. Maker, he looked bad. Even from a distance, she could tell how beat-down he looked. Meredith was lucky enough to avoid him up until that moment. She hadn't seen him since their conversation in the chapel. She regretted every second of their talk. What was she thinking? What could she possibly hope to gain by telling him about her family? That knowledge was out there now. He could do anything with it. He could humiliate her if he wanted to. It would be that easy. How was she supposed to react when he saw her?

Fortunately, it seemed that Orsino did not notice her. He was walking next to Quentin, the odd mage from Starkhaven. The only reason she knew his name was because many of the templars were warned about him. Apparently he got in a lot of trouble back at his old Circle for showing interest in forbidden schools of knowledge. Meredith hoped he wouldn't be a negative influence on Orsino. From their brief interactions, Meredith knew Orsino wasn't a bad person. If he focused on his studies more, he could be the model of what a Circle mage should be.

Meredith quickly turned the corner before they could see her. She knew she could only avoid him for so long. But there were a lot of mages residing in the Gallows, so perhaps at some point he would just blend into the crowd.

The rest of her patrol continued without incident, but that doesn't mean Meredith felt at peace. But there wasn't a lot she could do about that. The only thing she could do properly was her job. Well, actually she wasn't sure she could even do that right anymore.

Evening light seeped in through the windows of the Gallows, soaking the halls in a brilliant orange. The end of Meredith's shift lead her towards the Knight Captain's office. She had been dreading this moment all day. She did not want to see him, knowing she wouldn't be able to look at him in the same way. At the same time, she hated herself for wanting to avoid him. All she wanted was for him to be the same valiant captain who carried her all those years ago. She wasn't ready to be alone again.

The door to his office was left ajar. There was no light coming from inside. Instinct took over anxiety and Meredith rushed towards his office. She held her breath and peered in through the gap.

Wentworth's office didn't look like it was cleaned up since the previous day. In fact, the condition looked worse. The mountains of unfinished work on his desk expanded to the floor along with books that were carelessly tossed from the shelves. Plates and bowls, dirty with uneaten food, were shoved away into random corners of his office. But Meredith didn't focus on any of that. Instead, her gaze was fixed on Wentworth himself.

The captain was pacing in a circle with his hands formed into fists in his thinning hair.

"Stop it," he muttered under his breath. "Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it."

His chanting was so quiet and fast that his words melded together into a single vibrating note. But his voice was enough to stab its way into Meredith's chest.

"Knight Captain?"

She didn't expect Wentworth to hear her, but the pacing and chanting stopped at once.

"Meredith?" The Knight Captain rubbed his eyes as he looked at her. "What can I do for you? I thought you would be training right now."

"Training?" Meredith's hand tightened around the cold iron doorknob. "It's evening, Knight Captain."

The Knight Captain didn't respond and instead looked around his office, clearly bewildered. He shook his head and with a weary sigh, fell back onto the chair in front of his desk.

"Knight Captain, are you o-"

"I am fine, Meredith," he rubbed his temples. "I'm just tired."

"I can help if you want," Meredith took a single step into his office. "You don't look well, ser."

"I'll be okay. You should go to bed."

"Please, ser. I only-"

"I'll be okay," Wentworth repeated, his suddenly stern tone sent chills up Meredith's spine. "Go to bed."

Meredith didn't move. She couldn't. All she could do was stand there frozen as Wentworth got out of his chair and closed the door in front of her, leaving her alone in the hallway. Meredith hugged her arms and leaned forward to press her forehead against the wood door.

Inside, she could hear the rustling of paper and Wentworth's frightened rambling resume.

Meredith could only hope that it muffled her sobs.


	13. Chapter 13

The bowl of soup trembled in Orsino's hands as he made his way down to the library. He hated every moment that he was there. The library still felt incomplete without seeing Maud at one of the tables, staring out the window or fast asleep behind an open book. The pain in his chest and the throbbing in his head told him to turn around and return to the shelter of his cell, but he pressed onwards. This was the right thing to do.

Quentin was sitting near the back of the library, furiously scribbling down notes he was taking from one of the tomes. Orsino took a deep breath and stepped closer to him.

When he saw him, Quentin's eyes widened.

"You're out of your cell."

"Here," Orsino kept his head down as he placed the bowl of soup on the table. "I brought you lunch. I didn't know how else to thank you...and how else to say sorry."

"Some seasoning would have been nice," Quentin pulled out a chair for Orsino and motioned for him to sit down. "Here."

"Did they...back in Starkhaven," Orsino stammered through his words as he picked at his fingers. "How long were you…"

"Only a month," Quentin responded nonchalantly as he ate a spoonful of the watery soup.

"That's still a long time to be by yourself."

"Oh, it was awful. Wouldn't wish it on my worst enemies."

A silence swelled between them, only to be occasionally pierced by Quentin flipping through his papers or Orsino cracking the bones in his fingers.

"I've been meaning to apologize to you as well," the humor drained from Quentin's face as he stared down at his notes. "I acted without fully considering what you have been going through."

"That still isn't an excuse for how I've been acting."

"True, but it got me thinking. If something happened to Eleanor, Maker forbid," Quentin closed his eyes and sighed. "I don't know what I would do. You need to take your time to grieve. I should have respected that."

"I only wish I got some closure, you know?" Orsino traced patterns on the table with his index finger. "If the just Circle acknowledged her, I feel like that would help. Or at least a ceremony."

"You could always put something together yourself," Quentin shrugged. "Who else would be better fit to send her off than her best friend?"

Orsino considered the idea for a moment, then sighed and sagged his shoulders.

"You really think the Circle would let me do something like that?"

"Orsino, you're talking about the Chantry," Quentin gestured at the library decor. "They live for this shit."

Orsino smiled for the first time in what felt like months, but it quickly faded when he realized something.

"I'm going to have to go back to the place where it happened."

Quentin was already starting to pack up his notes.

"I'll go with you."

Orsino shook his head and Quentin stopped.

"No, I feel like I have to do this alone," Orsino stood up, pushing the chair in behind him. "Thank you."

"If you're sure," Quentin sounded hesitant, but he sat back down nonetheless.

Orsino didn't want to go alone. He didn't want to go at all. But he needed to. He believed that seeing the place where it happened would cut through the remaining traces of denial that still clouded his mind. And he needed to go alone. It wouldn't be the same if Quentin was there to bail him out. The only way he could come to terms with it was to face the truth by himself. Even if it was getting more and more difficult to breathe the closer he got to the apprentice quarters.

It had only been a month since Orsino passed his Harrowing, but the apprentices looked younger than he remembered. They looked brighter, less worn-out. He wondered how long it had been since he last looked like that. He wondered if he ever looked like that.

He couldn't see the closet from where he was, but he could feel it. He could feel the chills, the pain in his chest, the screaming in his mind commanding him to turn around. The screeching was louder than before. However, it was not loud enough to block out a conversation two templars were having nearby.

"...I don't know. A mage died in one of those closets a month or so ago."

Orsino froze. This was the first time he ever heard anyone else talk about Maud. He knew he shouldn't be eavesdropping on a templar, but a feeling of curiosity and even hope forced him to listen. Maud was not forgotten. Even these two templars knew about her. What if this was a sign of change? What if this was a small step towards the future Maud wanted for the Circle? What if-

"Abomination?"

"No, I heard she killed herself in there."

"Huh, at least the problem took care of itself."

"Maker, that's horrible!"

But the templar laughed anyway. They both laughed. The laughter made Orsino want to throw up. The laughter made his body burn with a hot rage he hadn't felt in ages. It wasn't the explosive rage of a fighter but rather the slow simmering rage of a person who was unable to fight. The rage that made him want to to sob violently and tear off his own skin. A powerless rage. This isn't how Maud should have been remembered. Orsino wanted to destroy them for speaking of her in such a way. He couldn't do anything. He couldn't act out. So why in the Maker's name was he walking towards the templars?

"Excuse me?" Orsino didn't realize how weak he felt until the two fully armored templars turned to face him, but he swallowed his fear and stood his ground. "I overheard your conversation. Would you care to elaborate?"

"You shouldn't eavesdrop on a templar, mage," the templar purposely deepened his voice to speak to Orsino. "Move along."

"I just want to know why you think it was okay to speak about her in such a way. I want to know how anyone could have such little compassion!"

"How dare you-"

"That 'problem' you were talking about?" Orsino was far past beyond the point of caring about his composure. "Her name was Maud and she died alone! Mage or not, she still died alone! Maud was never the problem, she was the victim of the problem! The real problem is people like y-"

Orsino felt the wind knocked out of him as someone grabbed him by the back of the collar and dragged him away. When his back was slammed against the wall, he expected to see Quentin gripping him by the front of his robes. Instead, Meredith's furious and tired eyes were staring back at him.

"What do you think you're doing?" Meredith's fist tightened around his robes.

"I wasn't going to let them talk about her that way," Orsino looked away, purposely avoiding her gaze.

"Do you want to get yourself killed? Or thrown in solitary?"

"I'm already locked in here like a prisoner, what difference would it make?" Orsino squirmed in an attempt to get out of her grasp. "I wasn't going to let them talk about her like that."

Meredith pushed him harder against the wall, causing him to gasp.

"I don't care what they were saying about your friend. You cannot speak to a templar like that!"

Orsino thought he felt powerless before, but now he was being berated by a templar who was also holding him off the floor. The more powerless he felt, the hotter the rage inside him burned. The rage tore through all rational thinking as he narrowed his eyes at Meredith.

"What if they were talking about your sister like that?"

Orsino didn't see her move. The next thing he knew, he was on the ground. The left side of his face stung where she struck him. Meredith was standing above him, her breathing heavy and her tangled blonde hair obscuring her eyes.

"I didn't tell you about my background so you could disrespect me like this," her words were dripping with venom. "I told you because I pitied you-because I was foolish enough to believe you deserved my pity."

Orsino just curled up in a ball on the floor, unable to respond.

"If you want to be a prisoner so badly," she hissed. "Learn to behave like one."

He heard Meredith stomp away. The confused chatter of the apprentices only resumed when she was further down the hall. There was a small sliver of his mind that felt foolish for saying such a thing to her, but the rest of him didn't care. In a way, he was glad that she was hurt by his words. The templars have gotten away with saying such horrible things. It felt good to be on the other side of that for once.

Besides, any anger Meredith was feeling must have been nothing compared to the rage that was growing stronger inside him.

* * *

Meredith found herself sitting in the chapel, unable to continue her shift. Her hand still trembled from slapping Orsino. She didn't even use her full strength, but the damage was done. She hated him for daring to speak to her like that, but she still acted out of line. This wasn't how a Templar was supposed to behave. She didn't punish him correctly. Instead, she allowed her emotions to overpower her.

Like a mage.

She stared up at the statue of Andraste glimmering above her. Tears began to form in her eyes, blurring her vision. As a Templar, she was supposed to have full control over her power. Wentworth wouldn't have behaved so irrationally. At least, he wouldn't have before. Honestly she didn't know what to expect from him nowadays.

Meredith let herself slide off of the stone pew so she was kneeling in front of the statue. Her lip quivered as she pressed her forehead against the floor.

She prayed. Not for herself, but for Wentworth. He was still an ideal Templar. He deserved health and happiness. He deserved these things much more than she did.

"Maker, please give him whatever good fortune you would have bestowed upon me," she whispered. "I'm already lost."

The dried tears caused a few strands of her hair to stick to her face as she sat up. She opened and clenched her hand a few times. Corrupt mages still existed. Evil magic still plagued Thedas. The people needed the Templar order, even bad Templars like her.

Meredith squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her fist. It was time for her to stop feeling sorry for herself and get back to work.

She still had to finish her shift.

* * *

"I let you out of my sight for one minute…" Quentin muttered under his breath as he pressed a cold rag against Orsino's face.

"I don't blame her for smacking me," Orsino hissed as the rag touched him. "But I don't regret it."

"You're lucky she only smacked you. Did you not listen to a word I said?"

"I did, but…" Orsino's voice trailed off as he moved away from Quentin and sat down on his cot. "You should have heard what those templars were saying about Maud. I couldn't do nothing."

"Yes, you could have," Quentin sighed and dropped the rag on the table. "Because they are templars and you're a mage ."

"Maker, you sound just like Meredith," Orsino fell backwards onto his cot.

"I hope so. Because I'm about five seconds from smacking you myself."

"So what do you suggest? We just do nothing? Allow the templars to treat us however they want?" Orsino rubbed his forehead. "I'm tired being treated like this."

"Ah, I heard that sentiment from many mages before. Usually it gets beaten out of them," Quentin strolled over to Orsino's cot and sat down next to him. "Hopefully you'll come to your senses before that happens."

"Are you serious?" Orsino sat up, unable to keep his voice steady. "I thought you, of all people, would understand! Why aren't you taking me seriously?"

Quentin furrowed his brow,

"What do you mean, me, of all people ?"

"I'm talking about Eleanor! If the Circle treated us like people, you think they would let her visit you. Or at least let you write to her more than once a month. I know how much you love her. Isn't that something you would be willing to fight for? Don't you want to see her?"

Quentin was silent for the longest time, but Orsino could feel the energy that was burning off of him. When he finally did speak, his voice was biting.

"You think I don't dream of being with her every night? Every moment I'm not with her, I'm suffering.," Quentin closed his eyes and shook his head. "But unlike you, I was forced to face the consequences for acting out against the Circle. If you are stupid enough to want to get thrown in solitary, be my guest. But I'm not going down with you."

Orsino felt his mouth go dry,

"I just want to be treated with basic decency."

"That's really cute, Orsino," Quentin sighed "But that's not happening. Just learn to appreciate the life you have."

"But that's not liv-"

"Orsino, please," Quentin pleaded. "Your heart is in the right place, but you're not going to change anyone's mind by yelling at some templars. They're just going to frame you as a bad mage. They're going to make an example out of you by having you either thrown in solitary or hanged. Your voice will go quiet like the other good-hearted people who came before you."

"So that's it," Orsino slumped his shoulders. "I failed Maud."

"You didn't fail her," Quentin placed a hand on Orsino's back. "And she wouldn't have wanted you to beat yourself up like this."

"You don't know what she would have wanted," Orsino turned away from him.

"I know I wouldn't want my friend to feel this way. Which is why I don't want you to get in trouble."

Orsino was thrown off by Quentin's words. After everything that had happened to Maud, being called someone's friend just felt...wrong. He felt like he was choking. No matter how wrong he felt, he couldn't shake the sense that he needed this.

"I just wish I could have done something for her," Orsino's fingers picked at the bedsheets. "I can't stand the thought of her being forgotten."

"If you still want to do that ceremony for her, I can help."

Orsino looked at him in shock.

"You'd do that?"

"Of course. You don't have to suffer alone," Quentin paused. "Unless you decide to mouth off to more templars. Then you're on your own."

* * *

Orsino soon realized that he didn't know the first thing about making a memorial. It wasn't like the Circle gave him any resources. But he tried.

The original plan was to set up the little shrine near the closet, but Orsino still couldn't go near it. So instead, they settled for a small area near the entrance to the apprentice quarters. The shrine itself wasn't much to look at. A few small candles were lit and placed around the floor. Most of Maud's belongings were either sent back to her family or thrown away. The best Orsino could do was stack up some of her favorite books from the library. Meredith still had that one book she leant her, but Orsino wasn't going to attempt to ask for it back.

Quentin decorated the wall with paper flowers and a sketchy drawing of Maud done on a piece of parchment paper. Since Quentin never met Maud and he only had Orsino's descriptions to go off of, the portrait barely looked like her. Orsino swore that the picture looked just like Quentin's doodles of Eleanor, just with curly hair. But it was probably easier this way. Orsino didn't know how he would handle seeing an exact replica of her face.

Orsino stood next to the shrine, shifting from one foot to the other as a few confused mages walked over to investigate.

Quentin glanced over at him,

"Aren't you going to say anything?"

Orsino felt his body grow cold.

"Wait, I'm supposed to speak?"

Quentin shrugged,

"She's your friend."

Only four mages were actually looking at him, but it felt like it might as well have been the entire population of Thedas. He felt his knees begin to shake and his body felt cold. He knew they could tell how nervous he was. They were probably thinking about how scared he looked, how much of an idiot he was…

This isn't about you, Orsino. Think about Maud.

Orsino cleared his throat and took a tiny step forward.

"Uh, greetings."

Greetings, really? Did you really just say that?

He clenched his hands into fists as he tried to push these self-deprecating thoughts out of his mind. Through the corner of his eye, he saw Quentin give an encouraging nod.

"I wanted to talk about my friend, Maud. She, um, she died about a month ago and she never got a proper ceremony here. I know it doesn't look like much, but I…" his voice was quivering and he couldn't breathe. "...I'm sorry, I can't do this."

Orsino moved to turn away, but Quentin stopped him by gently grasping his shoulders.

"Are you okay?"

Orsino shook his head,

"I can't do this. Maud deserves better."

"You're doing fine," Quentin patted his shoulder. "You're her friend. Anything you say is going to be perfect."

Orsino took a deep breath and nodded,

"Okay, I'll…"

He was cut off by the sound of clanking armor entering the chambers.

The other mages scattered when a group of armored templars marched towards the shrine-lead by Meredith. Her cold stare locked with his. He felt his body tense up.

"Clean this up," she gestured at the shrine. "You can't have lit candles around all this paper. It's dangerous."

"What?" Orsino exclaimed, ignoring Quentin's protesting behind him. "This is a memorial for my friend!"

"Move it somewhere else," Meredith stepped closer to him. "This walkway needs to be clear for the apprentices."

Orsino was about to protest, but Quentin grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back. He held her gaze as he knelt down and began blowing out the candles. He expected Meredith to make some sort of snide remark like most templars would have. Instead, she watched him silently for a moment before disappearing down the hall with the other templars.

"I should have said something," Orsino's fingers tightened around one of the candles.

Quentin sighed and knelt down beside him to start gathering up the books.

"Now's not the time, Orsino."

Orsino kept his eyes fixed on the stone floor as he blew out the last candle.

* * *

Long after the failed ceremony attempt ended, Orsino found himself returning to the apprentice quarters. He didn't realize he was wandering in that direction at first. He was shocked back to his senses when he saw the door of the closet just a few feet from him. The door was tiny, but it felt like it was towering over him. His mouth went dry. His legs shook. He couldn't breathe.

Without thinking, he reached out and let his fingers trace along the smooth wood. The door was cold, but Orsino swore he could feel something. He could feel her. When he closed his eyes, he swore he could hear her. The same voice he heard in the Fade. The voice that had been silent for so long, even in his dreams.

He didn't remember opening the closet door, but he remembered closing it behind him. In all his years in the Gallows, he never experienced darkness like this. He couldn't see two inches in front of his face, but he could feel the walls closing in on him. It felt strange not being watched for once. He was always being watched by templars, other mages, the tranquil, and even the eye of the Maker that decorated every hall. Being in that closet was the first time Orsino was truly alone, and he felt every second of that loneliness.

Orsino swept his hand against the wall as he lowered himself to the ground. He didn't care that he was sobbing out loud. It wasn't like there was anyone around to judge him. He wondered if this is how Maud must have felt during her final moments. By this point, he was curled up in a ball on the floor. He swore he could still feel her presence. Not her humor or her bubbly joy. He felt her despair, her hopelessness, her pain.

His face was pressed against the closet floor. It was clean. He didn't know what he expected. Before, he was afraid that her remains were still in the closet. He had nightmares about opening the door and finding her body, or the ashes that remained of it. Images of scorch marks on the walls plagued his mind. For whatever reason, the reality stung him just as much. The walls were cold. The closet was scrubbed clean. Every trace of her was gone, and that was the end of it. She was treated like a spilled drink on the mess hall floor. That's all she was to the Circle. She didn't even get the dignity of a ceremony.

Orsino shook harder, his nails scraping against the wall. Even after she was dead, he still couldn't be a good friend. The ceremony failed. No one was thinking about Maud unless they wanted to pity him. Nothing was going to get better. He failed her.

In the midst of his thrashing, Orsino's leg bumped up against something. He jolted up to a sitting position and cast a tiny glowing light. Not enough magic to be noticed from outside the closet, but just enough for him to see. After crying in the dark for so long, it took Orsino's eyes a while to adjust.

"Andraste's Grace…"

Sitting there in the corner of the closet was Maud's shrine, reconstructed to the detail. Orsino's lip quivered and the tears began flowing again, but he smiled. Someone remembered. Someone...cared.

The shrine looked exactly the same, except for one item. Propped up in the center was a book, but one that wasn't featured in the original set-up. Orsino felt his heart drop when he recognized the cover. It was the book Maud gave to Meredith.

The despair was slowly being overshadowed by anger and confusion as he reached for the book. After flipping through the pages for a few seconds, a note slipped out.

Orsino,

I apologize for acting out of line and letting my emotions get in the way of my duties as a templar. I hope this makes up for it.

Meredith.

The note crinkled in Orsino's fingers. The shrine no longer felt like an act of kindness It felt like a bribe. It was like she placed a simple bandage on a wound and expected it to heal, instead of checking for the infection beneath.

He closed his eyes, and let the note burn in his hand.

* * *

Orsino stumbled back to his cell, exhausted from the emotional overload. His eyes stung from crying and his chest ached from breathing so heavily. Part of him still missed the loneliness of the closet. He felt so vulnerable walking through the halls with his red face and trembling form.

The last few hours of sunlight were streaming in through the windows, but Quentin wasn't in his cell. Orsino paused when he reached the empty room. The most likely scenario was that Quentin was down in the mailing room, pleading with the tranquil to let him write an additional letter to Eleanor. At least his absence would give Orsino a few more minutes alone.

Orsino knelt down next to his bed and fished out the letter from Maud. He held his breath as he prepared to tear the envelope open. His thumb froze under the flap. He couldn't do it. This was still the only piece of her he had left. Besides, he still hadn't earned the chance to open it.

With a defeated sigh, he slipped the letter back under his mattress. Right before he got the chance to stand back up, something under Quentin's bed caught his eye. Something he certainly hadn't noticed before. He knew it would be rude to go through his things, but curiosity did him in. He crawled over to the other cot and reached underneath.

He found books. Heavy books Orsino didn't recognize from any of the Circle's collections. The worn leather cover was blank, providing no explanation for the contents inside. When he finally opened the book, Orsino gasped.

Orsino identified the illegible handwriting as Quentin's right away, but that wasn't what shocked him. The writing was incomprehensible, but the pictures were clear as day. Anatomical diagrams drawn with disturbing levels of care and detail. Images of muscle fibers being torn apart and stitched back together. Orsino couldn't believe what he was looking at, but for whatever reason he couldn't help but continue to turn the pages. As he flipped further through the book, the reasons behind these diagrams became clearer. This wasn't just a normal case of Quentin being shocking. These images had a purpose.

Necromancy. At least, a horrifying form of necromancy Orsino hadn't even dreamed of before. Such knowledge could get a Circle mage executed on the spot, but here he was holding a book containing the information. There was almost a certain thrill from it.

"Pleasant reading?"

At the sound of Quentin's voice, Orsino dropped the book and scrambled backwards.

"I'm sorry, I didn't-"

Quentin knelt down and picked the book back up, caressing the leather cover.

"So, you know my little secret."

"I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have…" Orsino looked up at him with wide eyes. "Please don't tell me you're actually doing this stuff?"

"What, this?" Quentin held the book up and Orsino backed away out of instinct. "No, this is purely academic."

"But why?" Orsino couldn't keep his eyes off of the book. "Do you know how much trouble you can get in for this?"

"Yes, and I already experienced it first-hand."

"Then why-"

"Don't you ever dream about the kind of power you have yet to unlock? The Maker gave us the power to shape the world as we see it. And the Chantry just wants to lock us up so we can practice throwing tiny fireballs all day?" Quentin sighed, holding the book closer to his chest. "I like to dream of the possibilities."

"But why nec…" Orsino couldn't bring himself to say the full word, as if the Maker would strike him down right then. "... that kind of magic?"

"You have to admit there is a certain...allure to necromancy, right?" he flipped through the book, looking way more pleased with his work than Orsino felt comfortable watching. "Being able to reanimate the dead, to create life like the Maker himself. It sounds glorious. Just to have some sort of control…"

Quentin stopped when he noticed the look on Orsino's face.

"I'm guessing the feeling isn't mutual."

Orsino shook his head.

"Tell me you're joking."

"Please, I'm not that funny."

"But is this worth being thrown back in solitary for?" It was requiring all of Orsino's willpower to keep his voice down. Really all he wanted to do was scream at him. "I want no part in this."

Quentin's eyes locked with Orsino's.

"Are you going to tell the templars?"

Orsino's body went cold.

"No, of course not."

Quentin's face broke into a slow smile.

"Then you do have a part in this."

Orsino stared down at the floor, his breathing labored and his mind racing.

"The templars check under our beds," Orsino began quietly. "You wanted me to find that."

Quentin grinned,

"You looked first."

The chills didn't go away even as Orsino was lying in his cot that night. An aspiring necromancer was sound asleep across from him-an aspiring necromancer who was also his only friend. Orsino closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the pillow.

What was he getting himself into?


	14. Chapter 14

Meredith spent the next five years throwing herself into her training. Being a Templar was the only thing that felt right, and it was the only thing she knew she could do well. She didn't mind talking with her fellow knights, but maintaining her social life was not a priority of hers. Now that she was older, she had to learn to reject the multiple invitations to the Blooming Rose. How her colleagues could be so open about visiting that sort of place made absolutely no sense to her.

Her sword slashed through a training dummy, the rough sound of steel through straw was the only thing that could be heard in the empty field. It wasn't even dawn yet. The flickering torches surrounding the perimeter of the training grounds provided Meredith with a passable amount of light, but they did absolutely nothing about the cold. Even the act of moving couldn't provide her with warmth.

Still, at least it was easier than sleeping. Meredith wondered if she could blame her nightmares on the lyrium anymore. Lyrium or not, they were getting harder and harder to manage. There were nights when she would wake up on the other side of the barracks in a cold sweat. Night after night of images of her family. Of Amelia's face being twisted into that horrible monster. Of Wentworth slowly losing his mind alone in his office. Of Maud's remains burned into the walls of that storage closet. Night after night of her mistakes, her regrets, her failures. She couldn't handle it.

With each sweep of the sword, it felt as if she was slicing through these intrusive thoughts. If she trained more, she could become a better Templar. If she became a better Templar, she could avoid making such mistakes again. This was a good thing. It didn't matter that the sun hadn't risen yet and already her hands were blistered and her back was aching. This was a good thing for her. This was a good thing for Kirkwall.

"Awfully early, no?"

Meredith almost dropped the sword unceremoniously as she flailed. When she managed to calm down, she looked over her shoulder and saw Knight Captain Wentworth. She had no idea low long he had been standing there.

"I like training when there's no one else around," Meredith pushed a few strands of stray blonde hair out of her eyes. "It's peaceful."

Wentworth chuckled,

"I see, but perhaps it's time you try using a different weapon."

In a steady movement, the Knight Captain unsheathed his greatsword and presented it to her.

For a second, Meredith forgot how to breathe. It had been so long since she last saw him carry his prized sword like that.

"But this is your greatsword," she reached out for the hilt, but she was too afraid to actually touch it. It felt like reaching out towards the hand of the Maker. "Are you sure you want me to use it?"

"Just try practicing with it."

Meredith took the greatsword. The last time she held it, she was a scared little girl who just lost her family. Even though the sword was way too heavy for her little arms, just the simple act of attempting to swing it around gave her a few seconds of peace after the horrible tragedy that had just occurred.

The sword no longer felt so foreign in her grasp. Every movement felt natural. It was only her second time using the greatsword, but she picked it up as if she were using it her whole life. Meredith stopped and took a moment to stare at the sword, admiring how the blade seemed to glow under the light of the rising sun.

"You're a natural," Wentworth's voice was quiet as he walked over to her. "I feel even more confident in my decision now."

Meredith looked up at him, her hands still clenched tight around the grip.

"Your decision?"

Wentworth nodded, his gaze softening as he leaned against a wooden post. He stared over the horizon, watching as shades of red and orange began to seep into the morning sky.

"I'm not going to be Knight Captain forever and I need to choose a successor," he looked back at her and smiled. "I believe I found her."

Meredith almost dropped the sword.

"Me? Knight Captain? You can't be serious."

"Of course I am," Wentworth laughed. "What? You don't think you can do it?"

Meredith's mouth went dry as she stared back down at the sword. She couldn't picture herself as a captain, but that's because Wentworth was always the Knight Captain. It was hard for her to imagine a future where that was no longer the case.

His health wasn't getting any better, but fortunately it didn't look like it was getting worse either. If she rationed out her time with him, it was easy for Meredith to trick herself into thinking everything was fine.

"I don't know," she slumped down on the ground, the sword still in her hand. "I wouldn't make a good captain."

"Well you haven't been a captain before, so there's no way of knowing," Wentworth sat down next to her. "But why do you think that?"

"I failed to help my family, I didn't act properly during the lockdown, I hit a mage, Maker, I could go on," she leaned her head back.

"Meredith, you were just a child."

"But I was still a Templar. That's not an excuse."

Wentworth sighed as he looked back up at the sky.

"Do you remember why you became a Templar?"

"Of course," Meredith rotated the sword around in her hands. "I wanted to protect people, but I've already made so many mistakes."

"If you would make a bad captain, you wouldn't admit you made mistakes. A good captain will try to learn from them," Wentworth smiled and placed a hand on her shoulder. "But, you're not going to learn from them by dwelling."

Meredith's fists tightened around the hilt as she struggled to hold back tears. It had been years since she last cried. She wasn't going to start now. Her body shook. Her voice was quiet.

"A good captain wouldn't be scared."

The sun rose as did the silence between them. The light really drew attention to how much older Wentworth looked. Sometimes, it was almost hard to believe that this was the same Wentworth who pulled her out of that cellar all those years ago. However, she had no trouble believing that she was that same scared little girl.

"You're allowed to feel scared, Meredith," Wentworth's gentle voice floated through the silence. "But you're also allowed to be kinder to yourself."

The greatsword was returned to Wentworth. Even when Meredith went about her day, she could feel it in her grasp. She could see the blade gleaming in the sunlight. She could feel the satisfying weight as she swung it.

She could feel the blisters forming on her hand.

* * *

By the time the sun began to set, Orsino burned through two candles and five research papers. His hand cramped, his eyes stung, but he kept writing even though his handwriting was far beyond the point of being comprehensible.

Orsino stopped, taking a minute to stretch the tension from his fingers.

"Maker, you've been at that for hours," Quentin murmured from his cot, his face half-muffled from the pillow he was pressing his face into.

"I have to get this done. Enchanter Gracia needs this paper by tomorrow."

Orsino believed Quentin was wrong about a lot of things: what the best school of magic was (it's force), how to wear a robe properly (with breeches underneath-no excuses), and the perhaps the biggest source of disagreement between the two was the subject of necromancy (completely unacceptable).

However, Orsino knew Quentin was right about one thing: he wasn't going to get the attention of the Circle by yelling at some templars.

So Orsino did whatever he could to stand out in the eyes of the other mages. This was mostly done by doing research of writing papers for the senior enchanters. Orsino normally would have loved to spend his days combing through old tomes, but this wasn't about enjoyment. Any personal academic gain didn't matter. All he wanted to reach someone with real authority in the Circle. Maybe then, it would all be worth it.

Orsino was just about to return to his work until he noticed something strange on Quentin's bedside table. An unopened envelope, fresh from the mailroom.

"Is that from Eleanor?"

"No, my loving family finally remembered I exist," Quentin briefly lifted his head from the pillow to roll his eyes. "Of course it's from Eleanor."

The letters came in yesterday and normally the envelope would have been in shreds by this point. Quentin would have been reading it over for what had to be the fifteenth time that day.

"Is everything okay?" Orsino set his papers to the side. "It looks like something's bothering you."

"Look at you," Quentin lifted his head off of his pillow, smiling lazily. "Doting over me. So sweet."

"I'm not doting. It's just that it's unusual for you to not open Eleanor's letters," Orsino paused for a moment, unsure if he was prepared to tread into these waters. "Is everything all right between the two of you?"

The smile faded from Quentin's face and he sighed, rolling onto his back.

"Everything is perfect with us. She's wonderful. She's my reason to wake up in the morning, but," his voice broke. "But I'll never get to be with her."

"But you knew this already, right?" Orsino knew that Quentin was in the Circle just as long as he was, if not longer. There was no way he hadn't caught onto this by now.

"Well you see, Orsino, I had this stupid thing called 'hope'. I thought that maybe…" Quentin shook his head. "I don't know what I thought. It just pains me to know that she's out there and there's nothing I can do. It pains me to know that she's wasting her wonderful life waiting for me. I can't…"

Quentin trailed off as his voice became weak.

"Every day, I feel more of the distance between us."

Orsino felt a pit form in his stomach. What was he supposed to say? What could he say? He couldn't relate to a word Quentin said. But he had to do something. If he didn't…

"Have you tried telling her this?" Orsino stared down at his hands. "It wouldn't do anything about your situation, but just being open could help you feel better."

"I don't know, Orsino," Quentin sighed. "I only get to write to her once a month, I don't want to spoil it with such negativity."

"I'm sorry," he looked back down at his papers. "I'm not the best at dealing with these types of dilemmas."

Quentin smiled at him,

"I'm not expecting you to solve all of my problems. Sometimes, just having a friend to talk to is enough."

"But I might be able to help you," Orsino tried to return to his writing while carrying out the conversation. "If I can get the attention of someone more powerful in the Circle, I might be able to influence some real changes. Perhaps even visitations with outsiders."

"Watch out for that hope," Quentin grinned. "It's even more dangerous than necromancy."

Orsino tensed up.

"I thought I told you to stop bringing that up."

"I'll only stop when you stop reacting in such a hilarious way."

Orsino frowned and resumed his work. Other than the times Quentin brought it up to get a reaction, it was easy for Orsino to forget about his fascination with necromancy. He never talked about it in a serious manner and it wasn't like he left his research lying around. Quentin was always weird, but he never came off as "necromancer" weird. Besides, Orsino had enough on his mind even without worrying about his friend being a necromancer.

"Quentin," Orsino spoke softly, not looking up from his work.

"What is it?"

"Do you think I could make a difference in the Circle?" he twisted his fingers together against the desk. "Be honest."

"Do you think I could ever be with Eleanor?"

Orsino looked up at him, narrowing his eyes.

"I'm being serious, Quentin."

"So am I," Quentin sat up on his cot and reached for Eleanor's unopened letter. "In my opinion, both are just as likely to happen."

Orsino slumped his shoulders.

"So you don't have faith in me."

"Sounds more like you don't have faith in me."

"I'm just trying to be realistic."

"Realism's good and all, but the Maker works in strange ways," Quentin pressed his thumb under the flap of the envelope and tore. "Perhaps he's listening."

…

The night air was oddly warm as Meredith paced around the training yard. She still couldn't sleep, but she didn't have the energy to swing her sword. Even though she was training harder than ever, she always felt weak. She knew that her body needed a good night's sleep, but her mind was unwilling to let her have it. If she learned to control her life better, the nightmares would go away. All she had to do was work harder and strive to be a Templar worthy of-

"Hello?"

The voice was faint and muffled, but it sliced through Meredith's mind. Turning around, she saw a young mage standing on the other side of the training yard. Her blue Circle robes were baggy on her frail form and her long blonde hair was hastily tied into a loose braid.

Meredith felt her stomach drop. Her body went cold.

"Why are you not in your cell?" She couldn't even make her voice sound like that of a stern Templar. There was no command to her words. Just confusion-and fear.

When Meredith took a step forward, the girl collapsed to the ground. Meredith couldn't breathe. She couldn't move. All she could do was watch in horror as the girl's body writhed and twisted. The sounds of crackling bone and snapping tendons filled the air.

"I need assistance!" Meredith screamed as the monstrous form before her started to take shape. "Please, help!"

It felt like she was screaming underwater. No one heard her. Everyone else was peacefully asleep in the barracks.

Meredith steeled herself and prepared to face the abomination by herself, only to turn around and find the training yard empty.

She fell to her knees, burying her fists in her hair. Her breathing was heavy. Her head was throbbing. This couldn't be happening already. She was too young! She didn't even get a chance to prove herself as a Templar.

With the little strength she had left, Meredith rolled onto her side, the soft cold grass pressing against her cheek. She stared at the area where the abomination once was. It looked so real. She swore she could still see the blood on the ground from where the creature took shape. How could she reasonably call herself a Templar if her mind could be so easily manipulated?

Somehow, Meredith found herself walking through the barracks. She couldn't remember how she got there. She couldn't remember where she was going. She couldn't remember,

She couldn't remember.

She couldn't remember.

She couldn't.

She couldn't.

Meredith's surroundings became a blur as she began walking faster through the halls.

Remember.

Remember?

Why can't I remember?

Eventually, voices began to enter Meredith's head.

I heard Meredith is losing it.

Maker, what a shame.

So early in her career too.

She fell to the floor. She could hear them. All of them. She knew they were talking about her, but that was about it. The throbbing in her head grew in intensity as her mind strained.

Please remember.

Please remember.

Please.

Please.

The pillow beneath her head was wet with tears as Meredith seeped back into reality. Her vision was blurry, her body was half-dangling off the bed.

Meredith rolled onto her back, breathing heavily and wiping the cold sweat from her forehead.

It would probably be for the best if she continued to go without sleep again.


End file.
